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Word: bowle (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
Sort By: most recent first (reverse)


Usage:

...bear at times but it will be a cold day at at the equator when we won't work twelve hours at the new station. It's true we had to stand in line and carry trays at Cowle--but at least there was no danger of the soup bowl bouncing off the table into our laps once we out it down...

Author: By John Collins, | Title: Senior Class | 4/2/1943 | See Source »

...During the "dust bowl" era, South Dakota had so much adverse publicity that some of us developed quite an inferiority complex. To top it all off, the First Lady, in her numerous jaunts about the country omitted us entirely in her itineraries. . . . Then the dust storms subsided and the grass commenced growing again. We began to throw out our chests. Among other things, South Dakota has one of the largest gold-producing mines in the world, some of the best agricultural land in the country and without a doubt the best pheasant and waterfowl hunting anywhere. ... We feel that...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters, Mar. 1, 1943 | 3/1/1943 | See Source »

...Young set out to defeat the ICC plan and thus save his own hide. Campaigner Young's battle cry: the plan is based on the "Dust Bowl" earnings of 1933-it must be changed. Charged tough, senior Bondholder Spokesman John Weiss Stedman: the-arguments are wholly fallacious . . . the proposals "are a tax-avoidance scheme...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: New Hope in MOP | 2/22/1943 | See Source »

...frankly worried about the vitamin-deficient meals ever since we were first confined, and have had to supplement our diet with purchases from the outside, of meat, butter, eggs and fruit, which have never been adequate. It might interest you to know that our supper tonight consisted of a bowl of sweetened bean soup, which most Nisei do not like, two pieces of vinegared beets and two slices of pickled radish. Tea and rice completed the meal...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters, Feb. 15, 1943 | 2/15/1943 | See Source »

...choked back a wet sob. All he could see around him were pools of red ink. He felt himself slipping down into them. Mosky, he wailed, dont' put in any more. But all he could see was the face leering at him over the edge of the bowl, and he felt himself slipping down...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: THE VAGABOND | 2/1/1943 | See Source »

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