Word: harbors
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...brunette, in-clined to plumpness, presented the purser with a diamond stickpin, "on account of the trouble we have given on the way over." Viscount Willingdon, slender, a head taller than his wife, chatted before debarking with Premier King who had come on board as the ship entered the harbor...
There had come a lull. Creatures crept from wreckage. They pawed dazedly over tangled debris, stumbled on dead monster fishes, sought kin-bodies. Down in the harbor the waves scarcely abated- wrenched, tore, harried, sank ships. Over in rich idle Hollywood, one lone building, the Masonic Temple, stood drunkenly. As if enraged by such impertinence, the hurricane struck again...
Whistles whistled; tugs tugged. The "university afloat" headed out of New York harbor for Havana. Western matriculants to the "university afloat" had been offered the privilege of meeting the ship at Los Angeles next month, at the cost of missing three weeks' work. To stay-at-home students, this "cost" sounded farcical. Who would do any studying, any work, on a joyride to 35 foreign countries with a lot of professors who had signed up for nice soft berths? But stay-at-homes knew not whereat they snorted. Some weeks ago the seagoers were obliged to file their choice...
Jutting out in the Atlantic about a third of the way from Lisbon to Philadelphia, are the Azores Islands. Chief of them is Fayal, where the little stone houses of Horta-toy houses of pure pink, blue, yellow and white-rim the smooth-curved harbor. . . . One day last week the volcanic crust of the earth subsided under Fayal. Some 1,500 of the little stone houses of Horta trembled, crumbled, fell down. A tidal wave washed in to paw their ruins...
Married. Mrs. Irene Gibson Post, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Dana Gibson and niece of Viscountess Astor; to John J. Emery of Cincinnati; at Dark Harbor, Me. Mrs. Post divorced her husband, George B. Post, last March in Paris...