Word: gusts
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Christmas Tree King in Chicago is a genial Greek named Gust Relias, who will sell this year about 50 carloads of trees. A produce dealer like Fred Vahlsing, his mainstay is tomatoes. If Gust Relias is lucky this year, as he usually is, he will clear $20,000 on Christmas trees before Dec. 25. At the Wabash Railroad concentration point at 27th Street & Ashland Avenue, he will appear daily to auction his trees by carload or by bundle to wholesale or retail buyers. His voice may be drowned out by that of his rival, Izzy Cloobeck, who can be heard...
Today peace strikes and student unions have supplanted the more practical and more effective rebellions against rancid butter and "fish with the gust in." Harvardmen no longer pound on in with the eternal leg of mutton, for beef now varies the diet. Our hardy forebears of the 17th century would blush with shame at our foppish assortment of tableware. Members of the Class of 1645 each had only one wooden spoon and one fork, the latter beeing used to nail one's single slice of bread to the table safely out of the reach of everyone else...
...treatment However, Miss Swarthout is thoroughly charming throughout whether singing or acting, and the movie seems to have recorded her voice with considerable fidelity. Charles Bedford as usual makes a disagreeable villain, and Willie Howard and Herb Williams carry off the straight comedy parts with a great mastery and gust...
...including a 10-month-old baby, picked up Miami's Mayor Sewell, and made for Akron, Ohio. It was after dusk when Dr. Hugo Eckener pointed the ship's nose down through driving rain into the floodlights of the Good-year-Zeppelin dock at Akron. A sharp gust whipped her tail (which now sports the Nazi swastika). Safe-playing Dr. Eckener knew the ship could not be docked in such a ground wind; rather than ride the night out at the mooring mast, he let his passengers ride it out aloft...
Across the wild northern hills comes the winter 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...