Word: jacket
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Vignettes of blood on snow: a man in a guard's blue jacket and reefer, his long, impassive face, with its heavy eyebrows, oblique eyes, long upper lip and thin mouth pushed into the ground, lying dead, his head pointed toward freedom. That was Convict Sullivan in clothes he had stripped from a captured guard. He had run through the barrage of tear gas that the troopers let loose on the screaming phalanx as it advanced across the yard toward the gate holding Warden Jennings and the other hostages as a screen in front of them. He had run toward...
...awarded the 1929 Prix Femina-Vie Heureuse, a cash prize of 5,000 francs offered annually by the two French magazines of that name. That it won the prize merely indicates that the French are not always so gay. Neither a cheerful nor an aphrodisiac story, its flaming jacket suggests that at least it has its lickerish moments. Not so. A stout French peasant lass, Georgette Garou, knows what she wants and goes after it with few words and indomitable dignity. She wants to keep her farm, to get a husband, to have a baby. The first two ambitions...
...jacket of this recent novel, a statement is made to which we should like to take immediate ex-exception. "The readers of Mr. Weston's first novel will not be surprised by the original manner in which he presents a powerful story"--so runs the brief puff. Well, frankly, we were surprised by it. More than that, we were mollified. In such a frame of mind it is hard to get eye-to-eye and cheek-by-jowl with an author's intentions, supposing that he has some. And so, in trying to line up a few impressions...
...Shinto priests went to the mountains, selected a grove of hinoki trees, a variety of cedar. The following spring lumbermen in spotless white jackets, chosen for their piety and good character, felled the trees, floated them down the river to Yamada. For nine years every step of the construction from the seasoning of the lumber, the hewing of the beams to the final sweeping of the completed temple followed the fixed unvarying ritual. Every workman, from the humblest coolie to the supervising priest, had to bathe and pray daily, wear a spotless white jacket and shirt each morning...
...banquet of the British Printers' Union, and to him listened a colleague - Rt. Hon. Frederick Owen Roberts, Minister of Pensions. When it came time for Minister Roberts to match the earthy eloquence of the Lord Privy Seal, he arose, a somewhat pitiful sight, embarrassed, blushing, twitching at his jacket and ruffling his hair. Finally, he collapsed beneath the table, then suddenly uprose again and in his hand was a fiddle. Upon this fiddle he bent his bow and fiddled out such tunes as "Loch Lomon" and "My Old Kentucky Home." So finally the grinning printers' wives became...