Word: ancestors
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...have always preferred playing ghosts to ringing doorbells," one student exclaimed amid his weird incantations. "Tipping garbage cans is so messy. We prefer singing to the spirits of my ancestor's class of 1739." The Robinson Hall haunters said they didn't mean liquid spirits...
...aviation pioneer, Inventor Stout comes of pioneering stock. Boldest invention of the American Revolution was his ancestor David Bushnell's tiny submarine that resembled two tortoise shells glued together, was dubbed "Bushnell's Turtle" (see p. 33). In 1919 U. S. airmen were shaking their heads over a contraption as outlandish as "Bushnell's Turtle," a fat monoplane that was mostly wing. To their surprise the "Batwing" not only established a new construction principle (internally braced wings), but became the first U. S. commercial monoplane. Thenceforth Inventor Stout, unlike his frustrated ancestor, found backers for other queer...
...wholly pleased by the proceedings was Lawyer Key's lean and leathery great-grandson, Lieut. Colonel Francis Scott Key-Smith, who hyphenates his name "because there are so darn many Smiths." Pleased was he that a painting of his ancestor, peering through dawn's early light, was unveiled in Fort McHenry by Mrs. Reuben Ross Holloway, the tireless patriot who in 1931 helped make The Star-Spangled Banner the official as well as the actual national anthem. But so ill-pleased was he by the political overtones of an address by Presidential Aspirant Paul V. McNutt that...
Lawyer Key hated the War of 1812; shortly before he wrote his song was tempted to wish the eagle-screaming Baltimoreans would indeed be conquered. Descendant Key-Smith firmly believes that anyone can sing his ancestor's anthem. Last July, when Metropolitan Tenor Frederick Jagel said no singer could be at home on a range like that, Lieut. Colonel Key-Smith snorted: "Any real tenor who says he can't sing The Star-Spangled Banner is a fool...
...anguish of mind was not so great, however, that he could not find time to write one more book (bringing his total, including the six volumes of his masterpiece, Marlborough, a biography of his famed warrior ancestor, to 19); to write articles, lecture, gamble, and swell his income to around $100,000 a year, to potter around his estate at "Chartwell," where he relaxes by putting up small brick buildings-he once belonged to a bricklayers' union-to play a little polo, paint tolerable landscapes which he exhibited under the name of "Charles Marin," and to organize a group...