Word: acridity
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...coal and iron (the min ing regions are shown on the map by tipples) near which the great industrial centres grew - Leeds, Sheffield, Nottingham, Derby, Birmingham, Manchester. Around these cities lies "black country," shrouded in smoke, lurid at night with the red belch of blast furnaces, so ugly and acrid that a tough people grew tougher to endure it. Rail roads and narrow motor highways, with varied surfacing, tie the Midlands cities together...
...last week in London Webb Miller lunched with Fellow Veteran Raymond Daniell of the New York Times, covered Parliament's acrid session on Chamberlain's failure in Norway, told his office he was leaving for his country home at Cobham. In an inky blackout, Miller's train gathered speed out of Clapham Junction station. He opened the door of his railway compartment-or somehow it came open-and Webb Miller pitched out to his death on the railway tracks...
...lyrical mood. Roussel's String Trio, Op. 58, which was played at the Longy School last evening, shows how remarkably his style had softened since the time of his Violin Sonata and the works of his middle life. The same development is apparent in Prokofiev. The change from the acrid dissonance of works like the Scythian Suite to the out-and-out romanticism of the G minor Violin Concerto is one of the most striking examples of what has been going on in the last few years...
...stanch Republican, anti New Deal. Rich with local department store advertising in the lush 1920s, it began to sicken when Depression I set in. Handsome, silver-haired Publisher Carl Jones (an amateur card-trick expert) shuffled his journalistic cards to no avail. To the Star went his acrid Managing Editor George H. Adams (later to return to his old job on the Journal, see it fold). To the rival Tribune went his cagey business manager, George Bickelhaupt...
...honeymoon, stepped up to the check room in London's crowded King's Cross Station. From beneath the counter came an explosion that destroyed the check room, burst suitcases and trunks, bowled over scores of passersby, stripped the clothes from two women. As the clouds of choking, acrid smoke rolled away Donald Campbell, both legs blown off, lay dying. Sprawled around him, 15 wounded men and women, including his bride, fed the bloody pools gathering on the cobblestones...