Word: frozen
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...hour at which Londoners expected the cortege to leave the station. Through the plate glass window of the salon. Edward VIII could be seen gently urging his point. Then he swung swiftly to the door of the car. Stepping out, His Majesty ordered the guard of honor, which had frozen at rigid attention, to "stand at ease'' until just before...
...politicians in Washington. Politicians profess to love nothing better than a good political issue. The best political issue in a decade had just been tossed to them when Supreme Court Justice Owen J. Roberts tore the AAAct into bits (TIME, Jan. 13). Yet the tongues of politicians were frozen stiff with fright-fright of what farmers might be saying by their kitchen stoves. As a matter of fact, farmers, still stunned by the Supreme Court's decision, had not recovered enough to say anything more important than...
...have dressed the part, was an ardent pursuer of foxes. Chief differences between U. S. and English hunting are of climate and country: "Our days are not so long, our distances, curious as it may seem, not so great, and our going, except for the damage of frozen ground, not so severe on horses." But to hedge-jumping British riders U. S. post-&-rail fences seem high and hard. Author Peters calls the Prince of Wales Va much maligned gentleman," implies he iFa first-rate rider. Western bronco-busters he pooh-poohs, says they are "champions . . . but not of good...
...darkness just before one dawn last week an automobile sped into that part of New York City which lies north of the Harlem River, ground to a halt at the great Bronx Terminal Market. Foodhandlers, working under arc lights, stopped to stare and pound their frozen hands together, as out of the car emerged a small, swart Napoleonic figure wrapped in a greatcoat. The man mounted, with assistance, the tailboard of a truck, took a paper from his pocket. Two shivering policemen braced their shoulders, put bugles to their chapped lips, sounded assembly. Half way through the call one bugle...
Early one morning last May a middle-aged Brooklyn housewife named Rose Samanoff stepped briskly out of her home, started down the street to buy some food for her large family. Stopping at the corner to get a newspaper, she was about to cross the street when she was frozen in her tracks by the sight of two speeding automobiles coming together at the intersection, by the sound of shrieking brakes, screeching tires. That was the last Rose Samanoff ever saw, ever heard. To avoid a collision, one of the cars swerved up on the sidewalk, struck her a deadly...