Word: windowful
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Added Loafer: "Entering, awed, . . . the bum was greeted by the strains, from a dormitory window, of Red Hot Mama. Doorsteps are found artificially worn down as if with the tread of the countless, and the tile of the roof has been especially prepared to gather dust and moss as rapidly as possible, to simulate the venerable. To this university, then, goes the prestige of having artfully intimated Oxford and Cambridge without copying directly. . . . Good old tears, good old spires, good old doorsteps (hastened up a bit), good old Oxford, good old quaint antique, old alma mater...
...must final examinations come just at the time when, as Eastman has so fittingly said: "All outdoors invites you"? What sunshine! What calm, delicious window, looks out at the moon rising through the trees, and muses. "In such evenings! The student stands at his a night as this Troilus sighed his love toward the Grecian tents where Cressida lay. . . . In such a night did This-be fearfully o'ertrip the dew . . . In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand . . . . In such a night . . . . I'd mortgage my immortal soul to be free in such a night...
...EAMES-ERSKINE CASE ?A. Fielding? Knotf ($2.00). An unknown man is found dead from an overdose of morphine, locked (from the inside) in the wardrobe of a hotel room in London. There is a balcony before the room window, so that anyone on the same floor of the hotel and of another hotel adjoining might have committed the murder. The clues are spread out before the reader with commendable fairness, but in baffling number. Two plots are so skilfully woven together that one has to wait for the writer to unravel them. Not until two-thirds...
Unhappy Sir--It is best to peruse this letter in bed. If this is inconvenient, at least don't read it at a stairway, elevator shaft, or near non-resilient or sharp objects. Move away from the window now, take a deep breath and hold it. One, two, three: Your wife and kiddies dropped dead today from--Woop there! Steady man! Watch out for . . . .! As I was saying, fell dead from the Waldorf-Astoria roof. They were all playing tag football when the wife stepped back for a long drop. And do you know that flagstaff in the square below...
...seven baths while she was reading the fashion page of last month's Vanity Fair. It would do no good to rush upon her in full undress: she was old and callous and stood her ground like a man. Neither would it avail to crawl out the window, or ring the fire alarm, or pretend to drown in the tub. But now, by a system of secret signals, the distressed Innocent calls another member of the club, who enters with a shot gun or a new Vanity Fair. If with the former, the goody is shot in her tracks...