Word: twilighter
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...abandoned. After 59 years of brave nights, this place, where Charles Dickens, in a shaky voice, read from his notes; where Fritz Kreisler, a shaggy boy of 13, made his Manhattan debut; where sang Christine Nilsson, the Swedish Nightingale; this place of tarnished gilt and outworn elegance, smelling of twilight, was to be left to the bludgeonings of the real-estate auctioneer. The inextinguishable appeal of extinguished gallantry wrung the hearts of the human interest writers who briefly noted the fact that Steinway & Sons, famed piano manufacturers, were to move from the old place to a new building* uptown...
...animated group that had witnessed the bartering of Man O' War's parents and friends left the meadow at twilight and motored back to Louisville. The auctioneer, they agreed, had been lucky. He never would have got such prices for Belmont's nags if it had not been the afternoon before Derby Day when everyone was feverish and even the yellow dogs of Kentucky, feeling the spring of the year, carried their tails...
Baseball has never been known as a perilous pursuit; seldom is the Grim Reaper seen, his scythe laid by, warming up with four bats. Yet, at the present time, twilight has fallen upon the Gods, managers have made mutterings to the effect that the state of affairs is baseball's Götterdämmerung. Babe Ruth, home run magnate, "attended by the sympathy of the Nation" and press, lay in Manhattan, stricken with cold, run-down condition, influenza, indigestion and a bump on the head. In Nashville, Tenn., visited with far less solicitude, Tyrus Cobb, "the greatest player...
Ancestors of the newt, the polliwog, the lizard and the water-snake, thoughtless creatures that swam in the shallow seas that covered the world in time's twilight until, stranded on limacious, shelving beaches left by those waters as the sun sucked them away, they died and turned to stone . . . enormous land beasts that shouldered through the early jungles of the world or straddled, whinnying, its ice-blistered rocks - the Dinosaurus, the Brontosaurus and the ringstreaked Lehthyornis, strange fowl: these were, last week, loaded tenderly into 40 trucks, moved into the new building of the Peabody Museum at Yale...
Miss Glenna Collett, famed Providence golfer, thought of a putt. On a certain 19th green, with the smell of a Southern twilight enchanting her frequently photographed nostrils, Miss Collett had seen that putt obtain its velocity from the pendulum swing of Miss Frances Hadfield, travel in an unwavering line for 20 league-long feet, disappear, with a leisured imperiousness, into the hole, thus winning for Miss Hadfield a leg on the Belleair Heights golf championship (TIME, Mar. 16). As if the smell of that twilight, still lingering in the air, enraged her, Miss Collett, last week, swished around...