Word: frost
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...clothes. He tossed the last garment onto the pile at their feet. "Up to this time," he said, "I have called Pietro Bernardone father; now I will serve only my Father in Heaven." He went out, clad in a bit of sackcloth, through the door. It was winter. Frost blackened the orange trees. They say that he was singing...
...what spirits battled in his ghostly heart? Surely, when he tossed in the attic at Assisi, a voice spoke to him, and whether this voice spoke from his own heart or from the rayless ceiling overhead makes little difference in the long run. He went out into the frost; presently he was joined by a wealthy citizen named Bernard of Quintaville and a canon from a neighboring church named Peter. These three built themselves a hut adjoining the leper hospital. Lepers he had loathed unspeakably. But perfect love had cast out loathing: it was on the road from Apulia...
John Wesley Langley, beloved soak, bleary-eyed disciple of Sir John Falstaff,† was ten times elected Congressman from Kentucky by bone-dry, Fundamentalist, Republican mountaineers. His tongue knew well the golden mellowness of old Kentucky "corn," his hand had felt the frost of tall mint juleps, but he remained faithful, legislatively, to the arid principles of his constituents. He had been arrested for intoxication in both Pikeville, Ky., and Washington, D. C., but Congressmen continued to admire his genial philosophy, his legal knowledge. He is now serving a two-year term in the Atlanta penitentiary for conspiracy to violate...
...National Geographic Society. Other U. S. notables whose undergraduate studies or mature achievements have won them membership in P. B. K.: John W. Davis, Charles E. Hughes, Theodore Roosevelt, Michael Pupin, Owen D. Young, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Louis D. Brandeis, Edward Terry Sanford, Harlan Fiske Stone, Robert Frost, Bernard M. Baruch, Bainbridge Colby, Dwight W. Morrow, George W. Wickersham, Mary E. Woolley...
...ceremony, that somewhat mystical reddish mister, Dan Russell the fox, with impudent wisdom seeking sanctuary from a choir of hounds. There is a mighty steeplechase with the bookies hawking odds, the hoofs thundering and two poor jocks killed. There is lambing-time, on the spring hills thinly lit with frost and starlight; and coursing the whippets after Pussy, the dodging hare; and benign old gentlemen in red coats "hacking bitterly at small white balls and saying very evil phrases...