Word: crepes
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Sober little knots of people were gathering on the street corners, drifting toward the royal palace. Streamers of crepe, left over from the funeral of King Albert, appeared on all the balconies. Cafè orchestras put away their music, snapped their fiddle cases shut. Hour after hour the bells of Ste. Gudule Cathedral tolled, and the crowds waited patiently by the palace gate. From mouth to mouth stories of the dead Queen began to spread...
Poland, a nation who has learned how to suffer since at least the eighteenth century, knows today that her troubles have just begun. When the body of Marshal Pilsudski has been laid in Wawel Castle beside his nation's heroes, Poles will be forced to put aside their black crepe and face the gloomiest of realities. Before them is the acid test of dictatorship: the question of what to do when a state which has been raised upon the personality of one man finds that he is gone. If history means anything, the autocracy has one of two fates...
First lucky fellow to taste a Crepe Suzette was Edward VII, then Prince of Wales. Moved to the ecstasy of inspiration by the presence of gourmandizing royalty, 14-year-old Assistant Vaiter Henri Charpentier of Monte Carlo's Cafe de Paris did things to French pancakes that had never been done before, served the kingly dish in a blaze of spirits. Edward's princely palate was pleased; he asked Henri to name the concoction after a friend's little daughter who was lunching with him, sent him next day a jeweled ring, a panama hat, a cane...
From the Quai d'Orsay to the Place des Invalides the street lamps were on, shining wanly through black shrouds of crepe. As if to make up for official negligence that may have cost the old gentleman his life, the entire distance was lined with steel-helmeted soldiers, elbow to elbow. Six feet behind this first line was a second line of Republican Guards, with a row of plainclothes detectives stationed between the two. Thus last week did France bury her great Foreign Minister, Louis Barthou. All the diplomats who stood bareheaded under the grey sky, all the regiments...
From the palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian high above the harbor floated a great black banner and other streamers of crepe hung from nearly every window in the town when the Dubrovnik came in with its sad freight. For a few hours King Alexander lay in state, before being carried to a special train and sent on a slow roundabout journey through the provinces of his enemies to his capital. At every important town the train made a brief pause, longest of all in Zagreb, capital of "rebellious Croatia." If any still hated Alexander they dared not show...