Word: droning
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Only the week prior President Trippe had struck another railroad legend from his map of the world's biggest air transport system. Planes had begun to drone in regular service from Vera Cruz, low on the Gulf of Mexico, up to Mexico City, following the old route of Conquistador Cortes, of General Winneld Scott and his U. S. Army...
...spread on the ground, tells Commander Rosen dahl the ground temperature. Another panel, striped, is spread several hundred feet "upwind" from the mooring mast and marked by two lantern-swinging grounds men. A smoke candle is lighted to show the direction of the ground wind. Presently there is a drone of engines from the east, then the wink of two white bow lights, two green starboard lights, two red port lights, flashing rhythmically. (There are white stern lights too.) The ship comes in low, hesitates, reconsiders, flies on and returns a few minutes later. Searchlights and floodlights are switched...
...shot under the Albany bridge of the Hudson River, heading downstream, a monster shaped like a huge boat, edged with foam and letting out an enormous engine roar. Quickly the monster lost its symmetry, split up into 101 separate hydroplane, outboard and runabout motor boats. In its roar the drone of individual engines could be distinguished. In the boats, bouncing on the floorboards in their padded driving suits, clutching their wheels with one hand while with the other they tuned their engines, could be seen the pilots, the ablest outboard and runabout "bugs" in the country, off again...
...incite a revolution in Nicaragua to find those greatest of academic blasphemies, the examinations, apparently over. The r. p. m. of Nicaragua is not what it used to be. He returns from gun-running in the face of the marines to a quiet corner in Sever 11 and the drone of the immemorial past. It was, however, too late to break into print on the occasion of the seventieth birthday of Professor Whitehead last Saturday. To one to whom time conceptions are merely mental gymnastics, age a philosophical paradox, it is almost impertinent to offer congratulations. A certain kind...
...pointed her up Daytona Beach toward the judges' stand. A white mist hung over the course and the sand was wet. When he was going 80 m.p.h. he shifted the Napier motor to second speed. At 125 m.p.h. he changed to high. The motor settled into a rising drone like the hum of an enormous bee. At the end of the ten-mile course, without stopping for the usual tire change and mechanical adjustment, he turned around and drove back again. Mist obscured the timing trap where a red bulls-eye was hung to guide him. Slightly...