Word: barefooted
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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When the Vagabond was still young enough to be chastised for his pernicious habit of taking off his shoes and running about the yard barefoot every warm afternoon, to the dismay of the tea-party on the porch, there stood in the library a small statue of a gentleman whose naked freedom was a source of envy to the Vagabond. This gentleman was bent in a very athletic position, and in his right hand, withdrawn behind his back, was a circular object like a dinner-plate. Uncles and aunts had disclosed to the Vagabond the fact that the gentleman...
Peasants stood all along the route of the funeral train, most of them barefoot and in homespun garments. All held bowls of holy water which they emptied reverently upon the slowly chuffing funeral train...
CREWE TRAIN-Rose Macaulay -Boni & Liveright ($2). The title simply means, from a British catchphrase, "wrong train." Denham Dobie, daughter of a peace-loving British cleric, grows up barefoot in a remote Spanish hamlet with a native stepmother and half-breed half-sisters. Her father dies. Her aunt, the Elinor Glynnish wife of a smart London publisher, "rescues" the reluctant orphan, who makes no head nor tail of her relatives' civilized occupations: incessantly scribbling books or about books, doing things they dislike because others do them, concerning themselves with every one's private affairs, eternally gibbling, gabbling. Give...
...Glass, The Siren Song, The Chambered Nautilus, etc.). A joyous, spirited and perhaps abandoned opera it is likely to be, if Poetess Millay has written as she was wont. Of burning her candle at both ends for the "lovely light" it gave, she used to rhyme. She has raced barefoot at dawn through the Bois de Boulogne, and elsewhere. When she married Eugene Boissevain, Manhattan importer, in 1923, it was with a fillip at destiny's nose, for next day she was to enter a hospital for a grave operation...
...through hundreds of emerald islets in a turquoise sea beneath azure heavens-on, on to Cuyo Island, veritable Eden in the Sulu Sea. Col. Thompson, pleased, ambled beneath outlandish cocoanut palms, low luscious mangoes. No phones, newspapers, railroads, trolleys or automobiles marred this hot perfection. Ah, to be a barefoot native! . . . But business pressed. Mr. Thompson reluctantly doffed his white helmet to the glistening coral beach, proceeded to the Island of Palawan where a launch took him up the Iwahig River to the Iwahig Penal Colony. Here he saw crocodiles, alligators, exuberant tropic vegetation. He saw, also, 1,700 convicts...