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Updated: May 21, 2025
"What do you know about wild flowers?" "I lived with 'em up in the Maine woods," said Quin. "I don't know their high-brow names, but I know the kind of places they grow in and where to look for 'em." "Let's take him along!" said Mrs. Ranny. "We won't mind being a bit crowded in the motor, will we?" Involuntarily all eyes turned toward Harold Phipps.
"Boss," he said, "go ahead if it'll ease you up any, but you might as well try to fight a hydrophobia skunk with a perfume atomizer as to try them high-brow methods on Fleckenstein." Jim laughed. "Well, do you know of a better method, Murphy?" "Yes, the good, old-fashioned way of putting up more whisky, more money and more free rides than the other fellow does."
For democracy, substitute "Modern Civilisation," which prides itself on redress after the event, agility in getting out of the holes into which it has snouted, and eagerness to snout into fresh ones. It foresees nothing, and avoids less. It is purely empirical, if one may use such a "high-brow" word.
"I will admit," he said, "that I have at times, perhaps, taken liberties with the law." "Well, den," she snapped, "cut out de high-brow stuff, an' come across wid wot brought youse here. I ain't holdin' no reception. Who's de friend youse was talkin' about?" The Adventurer looked around him, and lowered his voice. "The White Moll," he said.
"When I'm awake I kain't help seein' things." "And you're a pastoral philosopher." Bub scowled and gave him a surly glance. "What's the use firin' thet high-brow stuff at me?" he asked indignantly. "I s'pose ye think I'm a kid, jes' 'cause I don't do no fancy talkin'." "I suspect you of nothing but generosity in giving me this ride," said the stranger pleasantly. "Is that Bigbee's, over yonder?"
If we speak to her at all we call her by a pet name out of the Pilgrim's Progress ... Anyhow she hooked the fish, though he isn't landed. D'you see any light? 'Ivery, I gasped. 'Yes. Ivery. Nothing much to look at, you say. A common, middle-aged, pie-faced, golf-playing high-brow, that you wouldn't keep out of a Sunday school.
"But listen here, Miss Arethusa, you do just what I'm telling you and you let the natural history alone for the rest of this party, no matter what your book said about it. You can the high-brow stuff from now on, and you'll get along better." She could plainly tell that every word of this was meant as advice between friends. It was impossible to construe Mr.
You've heard of her, of course?" "Oh yes. She's some sort of performing snake female in vaudeville or something, isn't she, or something of that species or order?" "You're near it, but not quite right. She is the leading exponent of high-brow tragedy on any stage in the civilized world." "Absolutely! I remember now. My wife lugged me to see her perform one night. It all comes back to me.
Sylvia and your grandfather were being so high-brow I was beginning to feel faint," Molly laughed flashingly. "Did Grandfather keep his end up? I bet he couldn't!" Arnold professed an entire ignorance of the relative status. "Oh, I fell off so far back I don't know who got in first. Who was this man Capua, anyhow? I'm a graduate of Harvard University and I never heard of him."
The phrase "like a red rag to a bull," suggests a relation between the color red and the animal consciousness established by observation. The "low-brow" is the dear lover of the red necktie; the "high-brow" is he who sees violet shadows on the snow. We "see red" when we are dominated by ignoble passion.
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