Word: whack
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Henry Ford has opened his school at Sudbury. It seems that his aim is much more serious than merely to provide the famous lamb with another opportunity for a whack at higher education. The school is to be an example to all of New England. By its methods and training it will show the great need of manual labor, if Mr. Ford's expectations are fulfilled...
...last (February) issue of this cynical periodical, under the fishy eye of Editor Henry L. Mencken, one James D. Bernard, a "newspaper man who is now devoting himself chiefly to sociological investigation," took it upon himself to whack nastily at the Baptists,* of whom there are some 8,000,000 in the U. S. Mr. Bernard had read through all of 250 issues of the many publications sponsored by the many Baptist organizations of the country, and from his meanderings uncoiled into print. Thus he started his paper...
...Manhattan, The Jest means the Barrymores. Any operatic version of that play was doomed to hypercriticism. But when it was sung last week at the Metropolitan as La Cena delle Beffe, the audience arose to whack long, loud, red-palmed approval. It was a triumph. The play is remembered as four long acts of highly emotionalized mistaken identity. For the opera, Playwright Sem Benelli made a masterfully condensed libretto without a situation lost, a point unitalicized. By comparison, Composer Umberto Giordano's music was the trifling virtuosity of a clever parodist? saved by Messrs. Gigli and Ruffo...
...only through the beautiful but already somewhat old-fashioned and dusty museum pieces of the Moscow Art Theatre and the "twilight realism" that comes from the lower depths of Gorki's subterranean cellar or from the cherished charm of Chekhov's cherry orchard. Now at last we have a whack at a play by the most active leader in the revolt against all this realism, by that dare-devil of the Russian drama Nicolai Nicolaevich Evreinov--or Yevreynoff, if that spelling gives you more of the thrill of the exotic and esoteric...
...Slap!" A drowsy man rolled on his side, cursing uncomfortably. "Whack!" Another big mosquito escaped, purring out of hearing only to return like a seaplane disappointed over its landing place. Hordes of his fellows bumbled through the night, making it hideous for the otherwise hardy companions of explorer Donald B. MacMillan sleeping aboard the S. S. Bowdoin at anchor in Hopedale harbor, Labrador. Some of the men, their epidermis punctured beyond endurance, clambered to the crows'-nest in vain search of relief...