Word: breads
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Elephants, those kingly beasts, get their buns. But there is a rhyme in this book about a King who had a hard time getting so much as a piece of butter for the royal slice of bread. He asked the Queen to tell the Dairymaid to tell the Alderney to be sure to make some butter...
Childs-the string of 108 restaurants which stretches across the country from Manhattan to San Francisco-recently boasted about its million-dollar maison at Coney Island, built of "rare marbles and mosaics." The Bulletin became bitter, accused Childs of charging the public more for its bread, butter, toast, coffee, beans, ham-and-eggs than most other restaurants...
...They laid down their pennies, took home boots, sword, armor, cut them from their cards, pasted them on the effigies of contemporary actors. They took pains. Often the scenes constructed in the three-sided rooms of the toy theatres were works of subtle art. Artists afterwards famed sometimes got bread by engraving the penny cards, the tuppeny cards-Blake, Flaxman, Cruikshank. Thousands worked at the making of the theatres; now only one man is left who gets his living so-one B. Pollock of London; he is the last. Yet there still remain here and there a few people...
...course, lies not in a mythological Wall Street, but in the failure of wheat crops in most other countries this year. The final U. S. Government report states that the crop amounts to 873 million bushels, and the carry-over 102 million more, or 975 million bushels in all. Bread and seed requirements will take 650 million bushels of this; of the remaining 325 million bushels, 200 million have already been exported, and only 125 million remain in this country for export and carry-over until about July...
...loved Elsie better than her mother. That was the way of it; no explanation. Upstairs there were scenes; downstairs there were bubblings; in my lady's chamber there was bitterness of heart, all because a spoiled and lonely child was untowardly fond of a buman being who made the bread. Little Eva went to bed with a temperature. Elsie, ashamed somehow, offered to give notice. Then said Mrs. Raste, that admirable woman, knowing herself beaten, conceding that love is power: "Then you want to make it still more difficult for me. Do you want to kill...