Word: heapings
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...Petrograd's Winter Palace. Over bodies and frozen blood the Red Guards swept through the barricaded doors. By the time the final echoes of that historic assault had died, the last vestiges of Russia's old order had (in the Bolshevik phrase) been thrown on "the garbage heap of history." Russia of the Tsars, of Byzantine ritual, of mad monks and Cossack whips, Russia of fatalistic chaos and fatalistic inaction, was now to be kneaded with the butts of rifles into the Russia of the proletariat, of modern industry, of determined socialistic dictatorship. The time was November...
...foremost assayer is bellicose Bernard DeVoto (Mark Twain's America, 1932). As custodian of the Mark Twain Papers, Critic DeVoto has been busy since 1938 panning through an immense, theretofore jealously guarded mound of pay dirt: Mark Twain's letters, notebooks, manuscripts. Much of this haphazard heap is just rubble. But some of it is ore that assays high. And it contains clues galore to the size & shape of Mark Twain's talent, his working methods, the ambiguities of his mind and spirit...
...museum has its rhino skull at last. It was found amid a heap of dusty bones in the Museum's attic, where it has lain since...
...Virginia. His landlord was Oscar Davis, a white tenant farmer who, no matter how hard he worked and sang hymns in the Methodist church, never got out of debt. Black and white, Waller and Davis were two poor, desperate men at the bottom of the South's economic heap. When the Government curtailed Davis' tobacco allotment, Davis cut Waller's acreage and denied the poverty-stricken Negro his due: one-quarter share of the threshed wheat. The Waller family-Annie, his aunt, Mollie, his wife-faced a winter of starvation. Waller put a pistol in his pocket...
From the walls of the room, 150 framed caricatures of John L. Lewis glowered at the audience. From a raised platform Angry John in the flesh glowered even more ferociously from under his haystack heap of grey hair. Beside him, in silence, sat his longtime associate Philip Murray...