Word: whistly
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From both sides of the border, top-ranking bridge players arrived in Toronto last week for the Toronto Whist Club's annual championship tournament. To run the show, the Whist Club imported Al Sobel of New York, the American Contract Bridge League's national tournament director. At headquarters in the Royal York Hotel, Director Sobel accepted 305 entrants. But he balked on the 306th. No. 306 was Leon Beard, 43, a Trinidad civil servant studying surveying at the University of Toronto. Reason for rejection: Leon Beard is a Negro...
...Such compilations may be serviceable to those that have access to few books, but to employ them in other cases is too much like Sancho's dinner of state: one gets what another's taste has provided, and but precious little of that. . . . Played a game of whist in Jenks's room this afternoon. . . . Did wrong: won't do it again in term-time. Not that I think card playing sinful, but it is against college laws...
Died. Robert Frederick Foster, 92, Scottish-born ultimate authority on parlor Cames (Foster's Hoyle), who specialized in bridge, also knew all about poker, chess, cinch, dice, hearts, whist, skat, Russian bank (his favorite), dominoes; in Eastham, Mass...
...When Judah was not busily promoting railroads or flourishing what his opponents called his "oily, plausible pertinacity" in courtrooms, he was trying to raise the best sugar in Louisiana. For recreation, Benjamin would recite from memory "a wonderful stock" of verses (he was a passionate admirer of Tennyson), play whist, harpoon devilfish. His appreciation of good food and drink was vast...
...Aunt Maud, a middle-class lady who, in letters, keeps her nephew in the army informed on Home Front conditions, particularly the feud between the Whist Club Committee and the Impoverished Gentlewoman's True Blue Conservative Associaation; Uncle Fred and the ironmonger-the local Home Guard unit is too small to hold them both; Aunt Maud's gardener, who persistently reads Karl Marx and who says "It is no use planting anything this spring as we shall have the revolution before the onions come...