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added answered asked began believe boat build called close coming crowd deep docks don't Eleanore eyes face father feel felt followed friends gave girl give gone grew half hand harbor hard head hear heard hold idea It's keep kind knew land later learned light lives look Marsh mean meet mind mother moved never night ocean once quiet remember replied rose rush seemed seen ships side slowly smile soon stop story strange street strike suddenly sure talk tell things thought thousands told took town tried turned voice waiting watched week whole wonderful write York young
Page 240 - Let's get out!" I caught a glimpse of his strained frowning face. Again it came over me in a flash, the years he had spent in holes like this, in this hideous rotten world of his, while I had lived joyously in mine. And as though he had read the thought in my disturbed and troubled eyes, "Let's go up where you belong,
Page 380 - McCabe tell of his studio for physical culture, and of his experiences both on the East side and at swell yachting parties. TORCHY. Illus, by Geo. Biehm and Jas. Montgomery Flagg. A red-headed office boy, overflowing with wit and wisdom peculiar to the youths reared on the sidewalks of New York, tells the Btory of his experiences.
Page 39 - Rolling Home, Rolling Home, Rolling Home across the Sea Rolling Home to Dear Old England Rolling Home Dear Land to Thee.
Page 60 - Albert Edwards" and who had fought on the barricades at Moscow. Bullard had finally made his escape on the ice, walking directly under the walls of the Kremlin. This Russian revolution had profoundly impressed the sensitive young whose first glimmer of social conscious• "What could American writers today, with their sentimental little yarns covering with a laugh or a tear all the big deep facts of life, show to compare to the unflinching powerful work of the best writers over in France? In Paris...
Page 50 - I saw a big crowd on the front campus. It grew every moment, became a mob, shoving and surging, shouting and jeering. I climbed some steps to look into the center, and saw two painted terrified girls, hysterical, sobbing, swearing and shrieking. So they were shoved, a hidden spectacle, to the station and put on the train. Nothing like that on our front campus! Nothing like "sex" in the front rooms of our minds.
Page 377 - Make way for me. Make way, all you little men. Make way, all you habits and all you institutions, all you little creeds and gods. For I am the start of the voyage — over the ocean to heathen lands! And I am always starting out and always bearing you along! For I am your molder, I am strong — I am a surprise, I am a shock — I am a dazzling passion of hope — I am a grim executioner! I am reality — I am life! I am the book that has no end!
Page 44 - You were alive!" "Merci! Au revoir, monsieur!" What a desert of knowledge it was back there. Our placid tolerance of the profs included the books they gave us. The history prof gave us ten books of collateral reading. Each book, if we could pledge our honor as gentlemen that we had read it, counted us five in examination. On the night before the examination I happened to enter the room of one of our foptball giants, and found him surrounded by five freshmen, all of whom were reading aloud.