Word: blooms
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When I closed the pages in a mood of reminiscence and looked again at the cover rather wistfully, I though. Yes, we can make fun of children's stories, but this doesn't seen; to rub the bloom off. We like them all the more for their artlessness, their quaint little ways. And how harmoniously the editors worked together to create their Wonder-Book and to maintain throughout their tone of genial fantasy...
Clare, who has married well, dresses her, takes her to polo matches, rubs away the dust of Sussex and the bloom of spontaneity. Percival Fream, rich, meticulous, impotent, gives her first a diamond ring, then a marriage which includes all the luxuries save one. Mary gives dances behind the bright windows and in the wide gardens of Hill House but she cannot escape the knowledge that, for a steady diet, potatoes are more satisfying than candied rose leaves...
...Washington's famed Japanese cherry trees burst into bloom days ahead of time as the President welcomed his son to No. 15 Dupont Circle. President Coolidge's son John was home from Amherst for a ten-day spring vacation. ¶ At noon, one day last week, at the executive offices at the White House, the President formally received the members of the musical clubs of his alma mater, Amherst. At teatime, Mrs. Coolidge and son John received them informally at No. 15 Dupont Circle; in the evening, applauded them generously from a box in Continental Hall. President Coolidge...
...House Office Building ladies were present; so were preachermen. A "blue law" bill was under discussion by the House Committee on the District of Columbia. Chunky Representative Sol Bloom of New York politely insinuated that square-jawed Representative Thomas L. Blanton of Texas was a liar. Mr. Blanton, who wants to close the cinema theatres on Sunday, leaped at Mr. Bloom, who wants them open; put his Texan arm around Mr. Bloom's neck. They grappled, heaved, fell across the committee table. One L. B. Schloss joined the fray, was knocked to the floor, kicked. The Rev. Harry...
Academic thoughts and fancies should, and probably will, fade as quickly as the iris and narcissus so carefully planted in one's rooms only to bloom for the janitor's delectation during Christmas vacation. But strange to say, the world will be no husk, no empty shell. There will be left, among other things...