Word: roughnesses
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...mile trail system of the Appalachian Club in the White Mountains, mostly on rough, remote and storm-swept ridges, is substantially the by product of the brain and muscle of a few business and professional men. It is their avocation, their hobby, their dream Comparatively only a handful among the four thousand members of the Club, these few men of two generations, largely with the labor of their own hands, have made it possible to traverse the White Mountains with nearly perfect safety, and with the maximum of pleasure, ease, and comfort Cui bono? "For why?" What is the charm...
...both body and soul. But all trail work is a mental challenge so keen that it fascinates the fancy. Yonder is a skyline ridge which should have a trail. A simple thought. But before it is wrought out, the details of the ground must be examined in the rough (where a mile an hour is usually the maximum); there are hours totaling days of fighting through underbrush and blowdowns, in heat, perhaps storm, usually flies. Woe to the man who does not bring to bear all his mental powers to ease his way and save his nerves instead of wearing...
...spirit during excavating work at mystical Glastonbury Abbey, 20 years ago. A friend of Architect Bond's, one John Alleyne, had been the medium for messages in automatic writing. "All knowledge," the ghost had assured them, "is eternal, and is available to mental telepathy." Later had followed a rough drawing, which some monkish Latin described as the lost chapel of King Edgar, 30 yards long at the Abbey's eastern end. This threw light on certain cryptic manuscripts. Architect Bond dug, gave up, consulted the ghost again, received fresh instructions, dug again and found King Edgar...
...McCord has developed a character in these tones and half tones, a kindly person who sees the amusing facets on our rough diamond of a world, would like to hock the diamond but remembering those facets keeps it and just never does take his trip to Europe. That trip to Europe, by the way, is one of the best of Mr. McCord's etchings. "I Never Go to Europe." Perhaps he saw Papa and Mama and little Mildred off. At least there's a nice irony in thinking...
...game pocked with penalties, Nork of Georgetown tossed and squiggled his way through a rough Detroit team...