Word: glared
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Vagabond drove by hills and valleys, through mill towns and the country seats of the mighty. He tarried at metropolitan hostelries and rural inns. He ran by rivers at twilight and by factories in the glare of noon. Mountains shouldered out of the plains in front and fell away to the horizons behind. He saw the sun catch the chromium glint, of the skyscraper and he watched a single pine tear the rising moon to shreds on a distant hill. And always by the side of old and winding roads, on the kerbs of four-width highways, red dress...
...from an overhead monorail. By clenching a peg between his teeth, the '"front" man kept in place a rectangular face-shield. Above the din the carrier truck screeched on the overhead rail as the ladle was trundled up to the furnace. The door swung open to a blinding glare from the inferno inside. The ladle went in. came out full to the brim with a dazzling cargo which dripped down the sides in streamers and sheets. These were trimmed off by a furnaceman with a long hook as the ladlemen walked the dipper over to the mold, popped...
...white-covered table, small and insignificant in the harsh brilliance of overhead lamps, a fox terrier listed in the laboratory records as Lazarus II lay last week in a gloomy old building on the University of California's campus. White-clad figures moved in & out of the glare, watching the creature they had asphyxiated with ether and nitrogen. Lazarus II's heart stopped beating and he no longer breathed. His shoe-button eyes were glazed. Lazarus II was dead...
Occupants of rooms surrounding Dunster House courtyard were startled last night about 9 o'clock when a burning sofa hurtled from a fourth floor window in F entry onto the pavement beneath. For fifteen minutes its flames flared up from the court casting an unholy glare over the usually tranquil House and illuminating the efforts of the brave Cambridge fire ladies in their struggle against the fiercest of the elements...
Judge Callahan's announced intention was to "debunk" the Scottsboro case. At the first two trials there had been noise and bustle, the clicking of typewriters, he glare of camera flashlights. Last week Judge Callahan excluded all photographers. All was quiet as a squat, hard-faced blonde in a blue chiffon dress and a peaked black hat climbed to the witness stand, chewing snuff. Victoria Price, twice-married mill-hand, onetime vagrant, told in less than ten minutes and in language so foul that newshawks could not print it, the story of her alleged rape. Then she pointed...