Word: corso
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Even pretty women have been cautioned by Roman policemen, during the past two years, whenever they have "kept to the right" in walking alo.ng the Corso Umberto, famed shopping thoroughfare...
...morning after this sort of thing began, last week, all 'Roman newspapers printed the names, ages and all supplementary information obtained from the Signore and Signori who had been caught "walking wrong" on the Corso Umberto. Fifty women and men were thus pilloried. On the second day it was necessary to pillory only one woman, nine men. On the third day "walking wrong" had practically ceased...
...whiskey peer's petite daughter stalling her huge Daimler Double Six in traffic at Picadilly Circus. . . A stout soprano anxiously cranking her Ford backward in the Corso Vittorio Emanuele. . . A bony art student swerving her lemon-colored Citroen into a swaying taxi to avoid a Paris pushcart. . . Perhaps the memory of such typical incidents as these influenced members of the International Commission on Air Navigation, who assembled in London last week, and were called upon to decide whether women should be licensed to operate commercial aircraft. A decision had to be made, and quickly, for Mme. Boland, famed French...
They played it on the Corso, in the Bois de Boulogne, among the busses of Trafalgar Square-the game of Beaver. One walked with a companion; one saw a bearded man; one shouted "Beaver," scoring a point for every beard. Game score, as in Fives, was 21. The vogue of Beaver passed two years ago, but recently, on Long Island, a similar pastime started-the game of Babbitt. One drives the highroad, keeping a sharp eye out for Babbitts.* When a Babbitt is sighted, one points a finger at him, shouting "Babbitt." Babbitts travel together, and frequently whole games...
Last week he apparently considered himself sufficiently recovered from a series of intestinal disorders to ride horseback once more. First, his motor car roared at top speed up the Corso Umberto Primo, dashed out the Porta del Popolo, and climbed the lovely heights of the Borghese Gardens, now perhaps the most beautiful public park in Rome. There, immaculate in formal riding costume, he stepped out. His horse was led up. A crowd of Fascists cheered as he climbed into the saddle...