Word: sir
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Anglo-Italian relations over the war in Spain last week took a slight turn for the better (see above), so did financial relations between Britain and Germany. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir John Simon was able to inform the House of Commons that an Anglo-German agreement had been reached providing for continuance of the debt service on Austrian loans, repudiated by the Reich after Anschluss...
SIBELIUS: SYMPHONY No. 4, IN A MINOR: LEMMINKAÏNEN ZIEHT HEIMWARTS; INCIDENTAL MUSIC TO THE TEMPEST (London Philharmonic, Sir Thomas Beecham conducting; Victor: 14 sides). Volume 5 of the six-year-old Sibelius Society's definitive edition. The smoldering, cataclysmic Fourth Symphony is generally regarded as Sibelius' masterpiece, and Beecham's Londoners play it with devotion. Gaunt and enigmatic to those not familiar with Sibelius, it improves wonderfully with repeated hearings. The items that follow are lesser, lighter, more ingratiating. Neither is available as a separate recording...
...famed wine-colored rooms of Christie's (Christie, Manson & Woods), famed London auctioneers, the voice of Captain Sir Henry Floyd was heard last week. It lost none of its discreet fervor through much use. Standing tall and straight on the rostrum, Sir Henry was presiding at the auction sale of one of the richest art hoards of modern times: the collection of the late Banker Mortimer L. Schiff (Kuhn, Loeb). Banker Schiff, who died in 1931, had built a house on Manhattan's Fifth Avenue for the proper housing and display of his treasures. Behind last week...
...muggy London day, Sir Patrick Hastings, distinguished British barrister, was arguing a case before a House of Lords committee. Urged by the chairman to remove his uncomfortable wig, he declined with dignity, explained: "It gives me confidence...
Main fault of The Most Powerful Man in the World is that Author Roberts cannot make Sir Henri sinister enough. Instead of lurking behind the scenes, the chunky, ruddy, grey-haired old gentleman too often plumps right into the middle of things, sometimes with a letter to the London Times that reads like the outburst of one of P. G. Wodehouse's apoplectic baronets...