Word: sawing
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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While amateur boxers jabbed and danced at each other in preliminary bouts, watchers saw a member of the Wales entourage whisper to Playwright Shaw, saw him shake his head. More whispering. The Shavian beard waggled in violent negation. A rumor spread: "Shaw has refused to meet the Prince!" Dinner-jacketed ringsiders were furious. Boos and whistles echoed from the cheaper seats...
...show their womenfolk. The Americans are a fine people. Let no one tell you differently." Since September, Dublin playgoers have been learning from Ever the Twain, a play by Irish Dramatist Lennox Robinson, that the U. S. is a land of gumchewers, gunmen, gigolos, gin mills. "Remembering what I saw with my own eyes," boomed Chief Justice Kennedy, "I can only describe Robinson's play as a lampoon...
...among the best families, accidents will happen. In Nagyrev village, one Mrs. Fazekas was much in demand as a "wise woman'' or midwife because of the frequency with which unwanted babies were born dead under her ministrations. Unfortunately mothers often died as well. One day Mrs. Fazekas saw a fly sip from a saucer in which was a sheet of arsenical flypaper, drop dead. She saw a chicken eat the fly and drop dead in turn. Mrs. Fazekas pondered these interesting phenomena, then ordered great quantities of flypaper from neighboring villages...
...found to contain enough arsenic to kill a team of mules. Other exhumations followed until 22 arsenicated corpses were discovered. Only then did a pair of Hungarian gendarmes, black cock feathers in their bowler hats, march down the main street of Nagyrev to arrest the terrible Mrs. Fazekas. She saw them coming, instantly drained a stiff tumbler of her potent essence of flypaper and died...
...general, the surplusage and consequent confusion of our great . . . art museums is a matter of daily and just comment. Moreover, the prevalent jumboism encourages capricious, ill advised exhibition . . . to adorn . . . great spaces. . . . When I first saw the Pennsylvania Museum, it contained the queerest hall I ever visited. . . . The hall of small personal bequests . . . filled with small showcases of ... uniform size each containing the artistic remains of some patrician lady of Philadelphia ... a cashmere shawl or a Spanish mantilla ... a pooi filigree box from Genoa, a bad Indian bronze or two..a few mediocre miniatures ... an enameled snuffbox of doubtful period...