Word: fishings
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Sleek Frenchmen, great-throated Germans, hearty Englishmen, voluble Belgians, blond Swedes, good-natured Austrians, ill-tailored Czechs, pompous Italians, hungry Letts, solid Dutchmen, bland Danes, swarthy Poles, incomprehensible Lithuanians, dour Spaniards, excitable Serbs, fish-eating Finns, bony Norwegians, polyglot Swiss, egregious Estonians and 100% Americans-all these to the number of 4,000 assembled last week in Berlin. Greatest of them all were the Americans, 1,000 in number. They were most plentiful because they considered themselves and are considered the world's foremost exponents of the meeting's subject-advertising...
...Scout Clifford Taylor, of Des Plaines, Ill., was cleaning fish. Suddenly he heard a cheer outside. Poking his head through the tent-flap, Scout Taylor was quick to recognize sparrow-legged U. S. Ambassador to England Charles Gates Dawes. No lavatory in his tent, Scout Taylor rushed out, fishy paws and all. Ambassador Dawes held out a clean white hand. "Afraid I can't shake hands," said the Scout, "I've been scaling fish." The Ambassador grinned, gripped the boys wrist...
...gigantic, named Ishak Helmy and a German whose name everyone forgot. All then, male and female, proposed to swim to Dover-and back, said Fattest Myrtle; but the press of France, of England, of the U. S.. of the world, would give neither a fig nor a fish for their story...
Salt herrings and blue blood account for Norway's choice as umpire. The good value she gives in selling fish to the Soviet monopoly has made her sturdy friends at Moscow; and her tall, vigorous King Haakon VII is the only living brother-in-law of Britain's frail, gallant George V. Naturally the new British Labor Government thought first of Neighbor Norway when it decided to make conciliatory overtures to Russia through some honest friendly little state...
Rushing in his car toward Angora the Ghazi saw that it was true. Jutting high above a dusty plain is the ruined citadel of Angora. The "Fish Bazaar," the old section of the town, known to modern Turks as the pest section, straggles down from the summit of the rock to the bleak modern city at its base. Up the rock now, as the Ghazi gazed, leaped crackling flames, lighting up the plain. For hours the Ghazi worked shoulder to shoulder with firemen, policemen, soldiers. The acrid smoke of burning buildings mingled with the smell of burning fish. By morning...