Word: pandemoniums
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...lifts my heart up, times I think I'm jus' obliged to die." When Mrs. Rawlings fell from her horse and broke her neck, 'Geechee cared for her tenderly. But she taught Mrs. Rawlings' other two Negroes to drink. One morning Author Rawlings "awoke to pandemonium." Powerless to move in her steel brace, she heard stove lids hurled, plates smashed, shrieks. Every so often 'Geechee would stagger in to reassure her: "Kate an' Raymond's fightin', but don't you worry." "The bacon done burnt itself...
...noises increased - louder percussions, trimmed with human screams, wardens' and firefighters' shouts, fire-engine clangs, the crackle of flames. Finally the pandemonium faded; the pale people were led out. They said that the thing was terrifying, but they were glad to have been through...
What happened in the pandemonium that followed will be hashed and rehashed for years to come. Many ringsiders claimed that Louis' final punch landed just after the bell. Baer's handlers, swarming all over the ring, demanded that Referee Donovan disqualify Louis. Instead, when the bell rang for the beginning of the seventh round and Baer's handlers refused to clear out or let their boy leave his corner (even if he could), Donovan disqualified Baer, awarded the fight to Louis...
...more prosperous members of the financial colony were among the gloomiest. One, curt, stubby, red-mustached Major Lawrence Lee Bazley Angas (single interviews $100 an hour), who has been accused of starting several bear raids, periodically flabbergasts Wall Street by distressing ads titled "Fool's Paradise," "Pandemonium Ahead," "Nose Dive," etc. The other: William J. ("Billy") Baxter, economist-investment consultant, who in 1936 predicted a revolt in Britain, now expects the English to quit or fold up within a few weeks, carry Wall Street with them...
...recurrent miseries of official banquets. "It is an hour and a half of nerve-wrecking clamor, of intolerable clattering and clashing of knives and forks and plates, of shrieking and shouting commonplaces at one's elbow-mates . . . and when there is a band-and there usually is-the pandemonium is complete, and there is nothing to approach it but hell on a Sunday night." He begins to remember imagined slights. He had met the young Boer War correspondent, Winston Churchill, could not get a word in edgewise. Did you have a good time? somebody asked him. Said Twain glumly...