Word: door
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...crow of the fighting cock is Porto Rico's national anthem, sung from early dawn to murmurous dusk by spur-legged game-birds tethered in squalid door-yards all over the island. On Sundays the national anthem is stilled. Those sacks you see the natives carrying along the white roads on Sunday morning contain the coxcomb choir. They are going to the cockpits, where a knife, a flask of bitter liquor, volleys of cheers and curses, the chink of coin, the spurt of dust and blood -not always fowl blood-spell life's zest for the brown-skinned...
...these things happened last week in Indianapolis. Other things happened also. Four men in an old car, for instance, drove up to the Broadmoor Club and parked near the door, leaving the engine running. The orchestra was playing "Dear, On A Night Like This" as the four men came into the ballroom and fired at the floor. Three of them stood guard over the line of 200 ladies and gentlemen while a fourth went down the line with a canvas bag into which the guests dropped their money and jewels...
...soldiers always flank the door of a certain large but unpretentious mansion on the famed Wilhelmstrasse. Changed every few hours, they stand while on duty absolutely motionless, eyes front, shouldering heavy service rifles which are never seen to move, to tremble. Early one morning last week these soldier automatons turned suddenly as though on pivots, snapped to salute, and again became motionless as President Paul von Hindenburg, 81, strode forth with a Feldmarschall's tread, passed down the Wilhelmstrasse into the Taubenstrasse and entered a reeking, beery saloon...
...Liberty is being crucified at our very door, and the United States looks on with perfect indifference. Despotism seems to have become popular amongst us. Are we not sending endless goodwill parties to Mexico? Are we not courting the friendship and favor of the very men whose hands are simply dripping with the blood of their innocent victims? . . . The ominous silence of the American press and pulpit is not understandable...
Back Talk. "When I knocked on the [hotel] door, a somewhat impatient voice bade me enter. I found Senator Glass lying on top of his counterpane, angrily nursing a bandaged toe, his hair and his pillow and his pajama coat and the bedding discomposed as he tossed...