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...Skirt...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Miscellany: Jun. 27, 1927 | 6/27/1927 | See Source »

...successfully rallied the faithful to combat feminism. They remembered not the benevolent attitude toward women-kind of Tamburlaine the Great. He, magnanimous, referred to his chief wife as "The Honorable Great Lady." When she entered a state apartment 15 ladies-in-waiting held up the perimeter of her enormous skirt of silk and cloth of gold to enable her to walk. Three more attendants steadied by silken cords her towering headdress, which began with a wealth of black hair, rose like an immense extinguisher bestudded with gems, and was surmounted by a pretty little gold castle from which sprouted...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: RUSSIA: SAMARKAND | 4/4/1927 | See Source »

...gasped; I had fun. One afternoon a woman was telling several of us about the miserable condition of her health. Suddenly I asked her: 'Have you ever tried standing on your head? ... It acts like a charm.' I borrowed a safety pin, fastened the hem of my skirt between my knees, put a cushion on the floor, shot my legs into the air, remained poised for a moment. Said I: 'There, you try that every day, and you won't have lumbago or heart trouble.' . . . And only a fortnight ago, I read in the papers...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: WOMEN: Birthday Party | 2/7/1927 | See Source »

...promised land and handing down commandments nibbled upon a pebble. Or an Alexander, weeping mousily when there were no more ranches to conquer. Or some evidence that it had rained mice, or that the rodents were from Mars, or?since a mouse running from beneath a woman's skirt used to be regarded as a symbol of unchastity?that the mouse army was a portentous sign of the times...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Tabby Manna | 1/31/1927 | See Source »

...Story.* On a December night in 1906, a ferocious storm swept across Glebeshire. In its cathedral town of Polchester (by the river, by the sea) in her old, old house in Canon's Yard, sat Mrs. Penethen, respected, kindly widow. She sat by her kitchen fire, her skirt drawn up to her knees, her toes resting on a woolworked cushion. She was to admit to her home that night, against her will and yet somehow with all her heart, a vast foreigner: a simple Swede, a blond HerculesApollo, whose strangely formal card contained the words: Hjalmar Johanson, Gymnastic Instructor...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: NON-FICTION: Saint Darwin | 11/22/1926 | See Source »

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