Word: knocks
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City dwellers with beery intent slip into shadowy doorways, knock or ring cabalistically, whisper passwords through peepholes, gratings, chained portals. Dry-voting country dwellers blithely bear in the grape and the apple, press the ripe fruit, catch the juice, hoard it away. When winter comes they have a convivial cup. Long and loudly have urbanites protested this disparity of Prohibition. Last week city men envied country men when Prohibition Commissioner James M. Doran issued to his agents this edict: "The National Prohibition act authorizes . . . unrestricted manufacture of non-intoxicating cider and fruit juice in the home. . . . Conditions: . . . 1) it shall...
...self-government and liberal policy?has often been called "the prison without walls." Built to hold 1,350, it was last week overcrowded with 1,818 malcontents. On Sunday the men, numbering 1,700, led by a trusty, walked to the yard for an outing. At the trusty's knock at the "key room," a guard opened the door, was immediately kicked senseless. After shooting another guard, stealing his keys, the convicts seized guns from the arsenal, set torches to the buildings, attacked the walls. The yard billowed with smoke, beneath which convicts chopped apart fire hoses, kept...
...into pugilism was casual. "One time," he says in recently but well learned English, "I was in Muhlheim. I walked into a gymnasium. There I saw two men boxing. I said, 'That seems like good fun. Let me try.' So they gave me some gloves and I boxed. I knock...
...Heroine is despondent. She sits at the window of her drab abode, contemplating suicide. The organ of the cinema house plays Tchaikovsky's Pathétique or something equally lugubrious and appropriate. But, hark! A knock on the door! The organist changes quickly into some gay lilt by Mendelssohn. It is the Hero, or a telegram from him, just in time. The Heroine does not leap to her death. Everything ends happily-in the movies. Now that the "talkies" have come, you can actually hear that situation-saving knock on the door. And nowadays the organ music...
...assistant organist of that orchestra had been one Helen Jean Moyer, 29. Last week she kept looking for another job, but found none. She went to her drab abode and sat by the window, despondent. She thought about suicide. The "talkies" have come, but Organist Moyer heard no knock on her own door. She waited awhile and then jumped, twelve stories down to death. The movies, the talkies, real life-they are quite different...