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MacKinney and Koufman play superb football in curbing and smashing the Penn attack at the ends. But the center of the line seemed to melt before the onslaught, led by Rainwater, Chizmadia, Keepsell and Connell...

Author: By Sheffield West, | Title: Crimson Not Discouraged After 22 to 7 Setback at Hands of Powerful Quakers | 10/23/1939 | See Source »

...which she comes each day to prepare. At times Monk speaks as follows: "Can I devour you? Can I feed my life on yours, get all your life and richness into me, walk about with you inside me, breathe you into my lungs like harvest, absorb you, eat you, melt you, have you in my brain, my heart, my pulse, my blood forever . . ." and so on until the smell of burning food calls a halt...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Bitter Mystery | 6/26/1939 | See Source »

...begin with it should be pointed out that even Harvard indifference will melt before the eye-filling chorines and showgirls. To a reviewer accustomed to nothing more startling than Radcliffe citizens and Vincent Club members the girls were indeed an ocular tonic. Tall and willowy, each was a tribute to Mr. Brown's excellent taste in such matters...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Playgoer | 6/22/1939 | See Source »

...manage the Ice Patrol. Now two U. S. Coast Guard cutters, during the berg season, patrol the danger area in alternate shifts, report every berg sighted, keep big ones under constant surveillance. They pay little attention, however, to ice fragments less than 100 feet long, for these melt away in a day or less. At night the cutters simply drift, so no harm is done if they bump a berg. Since the Ice Patrol was started, not a single ship has repeated the Titanic's smash...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Transport: Ice Southward | 6/12/1939 | See Source »

...seasons, this is the most baffling and uncertain. For a day, spring comes. And the snows melt. And the world is wet with winter's waning blood. Another morrow, and the wind shrieks again, and the cold rains descend, pelting back the vernal equinox to a more remote calendar page. Hour examinations, like so many scalping Comanches, are taking their bi-yearly toll. Concluding winter athletics are vieing desperately with commencing spring activities. Class elections are pitting friend against friend, while honor, influence, and politics set a dizzy pace. Seniors are searching wearily for a life-long job, and many...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 3/20/1939 | See Source »

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