Word: frosts
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Though denied the use of their parents' names, most of the lyrics in Whether a Dove or Seagull have a determinedly casual stance which suggests a male forbear: U. S. Poet Robert Frost, to whom the authors acknowledge an obvious debt in their dedication. Like him, they refuse to sentimentalize their fondness for nature, insist on its hostility to humans as well as its charm. But while robust Poet Frost nevertheless finds permanent solace among his Vermont hills and pastures, in the minds of Poets Warner & Ackland the bryony and woodbine of which they are fond are entangled with...
...wind, painting the leaf and foliage dun and red, as age brings chrome and artificial scarlet to the cheeks of the decayed beauty. The skies are leaden, every rainy gust sweeps the skeleton branches cleaner, spreading on valley path and craggy niche a Turkey carpet. The airs, acrid with frost and aromatic from the sting of wood-smoke, freeze the new-pressed cider in the half-buried hogshead...
Production of "heavy water," a new substance in which the hydrogen atom has a mass of two instead of one, is new possible due to recent experimental research by Arthur A. Frost, Harvard Fellow in Chemistry, and others at Princeton, New Jersey...
...Farmer John Erickson of Waupaca, Wis. The plane was a second-hand crate owned and flown by George Parker, 22-year-old student at Northwestern University. Pilot Parker's job was to stir up the cold air which settles in the lowland, thus save the potatoes from frost. If he brings Farmer Erickson's crop through to harvest unblighted. Pilot Parker will collect $400, enough to send him back to college this autumn. If frost strikes, Parker gets nothing...
First white man to penetrate the Barren Lands, he counted his expedition a success when he came back alive with a single trophy: a musk-ox head. Grimly faithful diarist, no matter how frost-bitten or near-delirious with tropical fever, he seldom missed recording his daily tale. Fond of good living when he could get it, he learned to thrive on savage fare. Few things turned his stomach. Once in Africa, stooping to drink from a shallow well, he saw in the water beneath his own reflection "the ragged black face of a man, newly murdered...