Word: grounds
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...last week. His birthday was widely celebrated. In Belgrade 500 citizen delegates, brilliantly embroidered, pranced up and down the streets shouting Zhivoi Kralj! Zhivoi Kralj! (literally: "The King, let him live!") In the royal palace diplomats danced with Jugoslavian beauties. Troops marched and countermarched on the parade ground. Jugoslavian bunting draped public buildings. In New York Consul-General Radoyé Yankovitch gave a birthday luncheon at which U. S. Minister to Jugoslavia John Dyneley Prince announced that "progress in Jugoslavia is rapid," and Dr. John H. Finley of the New York Times made the striking statement that "there...
...Whewed he: "The recent upheaval against our Government was the greatest yet experienced. Our fate hung by a single hair. What was this hair? The loyalty and bravery of our officers and men, whose courage never faltered! Again they met the flood and carried us to firm ground." (Floods are the most frequent catastrophe in China, others scarcely less frequent being droughts and plagues...
...Pedagog French leave Yale, he was glad to get him at Avon. Said Dr. Canby: "In accepting the Provostship of Avon, he is not leaving the educational area in which good teaching and the sympathetic handling of youth are so important, but shifting his ground...
...companion Paul Codos, it made its way over flat-roofed, smelly Marseilles, to time-broken Avignon, to musty Narbonne, and then over the same route again. For 52 hours and 34 minutes the Breguet's motor snorted along. Then with a last puff and snort, the ship touched ground gently at her starting point, Istres Aerodrome near Marseilles. For 8,026 kilometres (4,987 miles) Costes & Codos had ridden a closed circuit with one load of fuel. The pleased French Government gave them an $8,000 bonus for breaking the closed-course record, which Ferrarin and Del Prete (Italians...
Vignettes of blood on snow: a man in a guard's blue jacket and reefer, his long, impassive face, with its heavy eyebrows, oblique eyes, long upper lip and thin mouth pushed into the ground, lying dead, his head pointed toward freedom. That was Convict Sullivan in clothes he had stripped from a captured guard. He had run through the barrage of tear gas that the troopers let loose on the screaming phalanx as it advanced across the yard toward the gate holding Warden Jennings and the other hostages as a screen in front of them. He had run toward...