Word: calmed
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...sharp tongue sharper. Lois May's and Lize's dreams all turned towards the city. But Ed was a good farmer, and little John, from the time he could toddle, showed there was sound stuff in him. Prize of the Shaw family was Jen. Almost unbelievably calm, good-natured, efficiently hardworking, she had run the Shaw household ever since her mother's death. Idealized type of what a farm woman should be, Jen was as understanding as the next one, never bothered her head about not being appreciated; she was well contented to stay forever where Providence...
...what he thought about what he saw. Collected, they make a short book (192 pp.) but a brightly written, informative one. In the Canal Zone, Traveler Siegfried was much impressed by the mechanics of the Gatun locks. "The silence is positively religious, giving an impression of safety, strength, and calm. It does honor to the Americans, and classes them with the Romans among the great builders of history." In Lima he found the people as climate-loyal as Californians; though in winter there is usually a misty drizzle, no one carries an umbrella. "You will even be treated...
Aboard the westward steaming newly decorated Berengaria, Britain's idealistic James Ramsay MacDonald was quite shocked out of the philosophical calm with which he has inured himself to crises. Nearly a thousand miles behind him another Socialist, the chunky Mayor of Lyons. Edouard Herriot, was aboard the He de France. When the radioman brought him the news, one of his party exclaimed: "We might as well turn around and go back home." The newly decorated lie de France sailed...
...about the money and tried to effect a compromise, and you know that always takes time in any transaction. . . . Then I said whatever came into my mind. . . . You can't let those things get on your nerves, you know. You've got to handle them in a calm way." After nine minutes of palaver a third voice broke in and told Mr. Rosenwald that police had nabbed one Charles Weil, 29, unemployed clerk...
...there really nothing to be done about that would-be carilloneur who shatters the foggy calm of each early Sabbath morn with one-finger renditions of such dear old favorites as "Nearer My God To Thee" and "Onward Christian Soldiers"? Undaunted by occasional mistakes, undeterred by the combined sarcastic clangor from six other steeples, he crashes out his pathetic revival-meeting cacophonies without benefit of half-notes, but with a boundless enthusiasm comparable only to that of a small boy with a horn on Christmas morning. I don't know which egliso employs this generous artist, but if there...