Word: paintings
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Under the title of "Paint-Brush Song" Mr. Derek Beamish (stet) yearns boozily in alternate rymeless and meterless stanzas to be as cool as brook water and as warm as seasand. The seasand is about the hottest part of this effusion and our personal suspicion is that what Mr. Beamish needs is a cold head towel and a turkish bath...
...dull red coat of preservative paint is the usual lot of structural steel, a dull red which is promptly censored by an overcoating of black. But from now on, the structural steel for all skyscrapers whose frames are by the Hay Foundry & Iron Works of New York will shine yellow in the glare of the sun. The first of them will be the Louis Adler Building, now arising on Seventh Avenue at 37th St., Manhattan...
Built on the high hills of feminine superiority, the ideal home of the Akron University co-ed stands ready to receive her and the spouse of her choice. The walls will always glisten with clean white paint, for the male selected to preserve the material sanctity of this home must be qualified with an income of at least two thousand five hundred dollars a year. Unfortunately there must remain one vestige of the archaic male predominance, for the vulgar advantage of physical strength still cannot be argued away even by the eloquence of Lucy Stone. But no more concessions...
...painter is acknowledged as one of the country's most brilliant. After his graduation he studied here and at Paris; early in his career he was an exhibitor at the leading seasonal art shows; and in 1919 he was commissioned to paint pictures of war celebrities...
...President turned back to the public, seen and unseen, and began his speech (see col. 2). Wind-blown rain dampened his hair, clotted his eyebrows. He shook his head impatiently to get the wet off his face. The fringes of the crowd melted away. Indians in full war paint (friends and race relatives of the Vice President) retreated to shelter under the Capitol's main portico. The President began to hurry his words, faster, louder, doggedly, as the tattoo of water from above grew louder and louder. It was, Boris must have thought, dismal weather...