In the late 1940s, Dartmouth thought of David Lambuth as a campus character, the compleat English professor in his white suit and black cape, his white beard and black beret, driving his white Packard as absentmindedly as he graded green freshmen. Older generations knew better. Professor Lambuth had a passion for precision in writing; he abhorred the vague and verbose, the prolix and pompous. And in 1923, when his beard was black and his energy abundant, Lambuth compiled The Golden Book on Writing, a 50-page bible that sounded positively Mosaical.
"Simple words...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
