Word: burn
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...welcoming Irishmen cheered, waved flags. But others, unruly, loudly hissed, catcalled. Princess Mary & husband then motored to their castle at Portumna, on the river Shannon. Through the courtesy of the Free State Government a bullet proof automobile was lent. At Portumna, they discovered that Irish firebrands had tried to burn the castle and had also set fire to several hayricks. Graciously then Viscount Lascelles penned a note to the Irish Free State expressing deep "regret if the visit to the Free State has . . . caused suffering to anyone in Ireland and hope that some way will be found whereby no vindictive...
Last week, as every week, Quarryman Guido Murray Fabbricotti, 63, dignified, solemn, rose at 4:30, went ahorseback to his quarries. The early hour results from two factors. The quarries are quick to heat, and work is hard after the 10 a. m. sun begins to burn. And Quarryman Guido Murray Fabbricotti is not wholly Latin. His indolent Italian temperament is pricked into action by the Scottish blood of his mother. Guide's father, Bernardo Fabbricotti, 64 years ago, married Helen Murray, a Scotch noblewoman of sorts. Son Guido inherited the quarries of his father and the early rising...
...Muskogee, Okla., John Coffey, a farmer, wished to smoke a pipe and lighted a match. The match broke and fell into a tank of kerosene. The kerosene began to burn and a cat walked past it. The cat's fur caught fire and Farmer Coffey chased the cat. The cat jumped into his haybarn and the haybarn burned down...
...charm or gentleness or pleasant impulses; and the thoughts of each, tortuously analyzed, hark back to a frustration or forward with resignation and despair. Typical in the collection of stories are the drab blunderings of Amelia and her loutish husband ("The Runaways") who weary of their sterile farm, and burn the house for the insurance. Too scatter-brain scared to collect the money, they run away and finally trail along with a traveling carnival. Amelia, as ticket-collector in shabby velvet, attains a certain dreary happiness...
...Jones on the final green at Brae Burn was thinking of future tournaments in which he must try to achieve the perfection which he can never much more nearly approximate than he does now, he might have envisaged himself as a chubby and more cheerful old fellow, winning the U. S. Senior Golf Championship. One such, Charles H. Walker. 61, last week won this tournament at Rye, N. Y., with a score of 158 for 36 holes...