Word: reader
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...obtain amusement and did not object to an occasional hoax, so long as it was all in the spirit of good clean fun. Good clean fun there is in plenty among the pages of this long showing off of a showman, and fun that is enjoyable to a reader if not taken in too large doses...
...South, to proprietor of the American Museum, and finally to owner of the great circus that now bears his name, Barnum was a Yankee, a Connecticut Yankee, to be exact, and many are the tales, of business deals that smack of the wisdom of the Nutmeg state. The reader need have no fear that he may overlook these bits of David Harum, for they are advertised, in true Barnum style, for several pages before and after the transaction...
...Luck," "Of All Things" and "Love Conquers All" staring it in the face, Mr. Benchley's latest collection of scientific discussions, little home-talks and slightly drunken essays is perilously close to having to take a back seat. But close as the perils may seem, as the plucky reader wends his way through the distinctly mediocre to the unquestionably superb he emerges with the feeling that after all the Benchley tradition has been preserved. The chuckles come as they were no doubt intended to, and here and there may be heard a loud guffaw. Continuing a worthy partnership, Gluyas Williams...
This book is made up of his last critical essays, book reviews of the jaunty type that let you in on the book's title only in the third paragraph. The College will see there things on Dean Briggs and on Professor Abbott's "The New Barbarians". The general reader will share with the College a potpourri of Dreiser, Thoreau, Anatole France, de la Mare, Lardner, and Montaigne. Mr. Sherman's tastes were notoriously catholic; and here he shows, regrettably for the last time, an ability to be all things to all men that is as refreshing as note worthy...
...trouble is (and this book does leave the reader with a troubled feeling) that although Mr. Sherman's knowledge of things past and contemporary was admirable, his capacity for facile applause is much less so. The reader suspects that he had so many tastes that at bottom he had none at all. The two places where he makes an attempt at any kind of distinguishing, in preferring Esther Shephard's "Paul Bunyan" to James Stephens', and in protesting against Dreiser's fearful style, are too obvious to argue any great subtlety. Elsewhere he is prone to sit back, fold...