Word: comely
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...come last year, London might have been the scene of one of the most decisive battles in history. Modern Nazi bombing planes would have strafed it mercilessly. If they could have wrecked its essential services by perhaps a fortnight of intensive bombing-wrecked its communications, its power supply, its waterworks and sanitary facilities until plague stalked the streets and 10,000,000 human beings were thrown into horror-stricken disorder-the British Government might have been forced to make peace even at the cost of surrendering the proud British fleet...
...blue-blooded hunters and racers lent by the artist, seven were early studies of country horses lent by the city of Norwich. To the seven, Munnings made violent objection: six were "childish beginnings" that he had outgrown, one he had not even painted. He insisted that all seven come down...
...City and Paris kept away A. F. of L.'s William Green, France's Edouard Herriot (they sent messages). Among the speakers were bigwigs from Poland, Sweden and no fewer than seven from Britain, headed by Earl Baldwin of Bewdley, former Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, who had come to address a U. S. audience for the first time. Columbia's Anglophile Nicholas Murray Butler beamed on his visitors, bestowed honorary degrees on four of the Britons (and one on M. Herriot In absentia...
Byron (affairing with calm Lady Oxford, who told him, "a broken heart is nothing but a bad digestion") wrote Caroline saying: "Correct your vanity which has be come ridiculous . . . and leave me in peace." Caroline had convulsions for a fortnight. She offered herself to any young man who would fight a duel with Byron. She put new livery on her footmen with buttons engraved: "Ne crede Byron" ("Do not believe Byron...
...husband's death, imagined that Byron (he had never seen her) was in love with her. She thought the women mentioned in his poems were herself. Her sons, Lucius and Plantagenet, shared her delusion. She wrote: ''Surely I cannot be mistaken! Byron, my adored Byron, come to me ... tell me, my Byron, if those mournful tender effusions . . . to Thyrza . . . were not intended for myself...