Word: dears
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...then counter at the bottom with recipes for drinks. The scheme, more ingenious than its execution, is helped somewhat by pseudo-Victorian pseudo-engravings by Artist John Held Jr. Like all rummagings in the attic, this one recovers some rare antiques; the full version of that affecting ballad, "Father, Dear Father Come Home with Me Now"; the verisimilitudinous fable of the aleful mother who staggered home with her child in one arm, a bag of meal in the other, threw the baby in the meal chest, the bag of meal in the cradle, woke to find the child dead, signed...
Calhoun's answer to the President's toast as reported by you follows: "The Union":-"Next to our Liberty most dear! May we remember that it can only be preserved by respecting the rights of the States and distributing equally the benefits and burthen of the Union...
Brisk and businesslike was the annual report issued by Secretary of Commerce Robert Patterson Lament last week. Addressed neither to the President-to whom the department is dear-nor the Congress, it was the last of the nine reporting departments to make its statement. Secretary Lament wasted no time in probing the causes of the Depression, made instead the following observations...
...want something good now. . . . Anyway, I'm in damn good company! They wouldn't have Sheridan, or Goldsmith, and it's taken people a pretty long time to swallow Stravinsky. It was a good while before they'd receive Debussy. And God knows Bizet died in a garret! . . . And, dear Lord, what they wrote of Wagner! Dewey ?they killed him: . . . After all, you must not forget he said, 'You can fire when ready, Gridley.? Dewey looked into George Creel's eyes, and he said: 'The footprints of the American people are upon my heart...
...lover of the country, Webster was a first-rate angler. He thought his success due "to careful and thorough fishing of the difficult places which others do not so fish." Once out shooting he peppered a stranger by mistake. ''Webster rushed up and asked solicitously: 'My dear sir, did I hit you?' The victim, still rubbing his shoulder, said ruefully: 'Yes, you did hit me; and from your looks, I should think that I am not the first man you have shot, either...