Word: bleatingly
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...Boston are chock full of churches. What's the use of building a church where nobody wants to go? A building with some athletic object, an infirmary for the martyrs of sport, would be laudable. But a church? Who goes to church? Religion is played out. So the infants bleat, trying to make somebody think that they are hard-boiled, world-weary, "pagan...
...completed picture is not pleasant. The average standard of living in Russia is unbelievably low. Peasant squalor exists around half-destroyed churches containing the art of eight centuries. Loud speakers bleat communist propaganda into stond uncomprehending faces. On the whole, however, life is livable and looks to the future. "Black Bread and Red Coffins" brings a shadowy nation into clear relief. In the prison, in the courtroom, in the Bureau of Marriage and Divorce, and in the village world, representative personalities are etched in living and human detail...
...spectacle of "America's Sweet-heart" cavorting at the head of the Harvard band in every movie theatre and Fair Harvard crooned and moaned to the accompaniment of the saxophone's bleat in every radio is truly overpowering; one cannot help but feel a slight giddiness at such a prospect, and perhaps under the circumstances the less said about the inefficiency of the publicity department the better...
Holiest of the lambs of Rome are those that frisk and bleat on the meadows of the Church of St. Agnes the Martyr, far out on the Via Nomentana. It is their special duty to sprout the wool that is woven into pallia for Papal bestowal on Cardinals, Patriarchs and Archbishops.* On the feast of St. Agnes last week, two of the most docile of the lambs of St. Agnes were carefully washed with finest soap, garlanded with flowers, trussed together with ribbons, laid in a grass-lined basket, carried to the Vatican...
...every corner the world around they took their stand last week as usual, just after nightfall. Tambourine shook, cornet squealed, trombone grunted. The thin bleat of pinched spinster voices, shrilling from time to time in accents of wailing fervor, took up the immemorial hymns. "Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb...