Word: heard
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...recounting. We were riding in our accustomed three-abreast formation with "Ham and--" and the baggage camels in the middle, Eddas on the left, and I on the right, when quite suddenly the sky paled a trifle and a curious singing noise, like the hum of bees, made itself heard in the distance. I was about to inquire the reason when Eddas clutched my arm convulsively and pointed to the rear. Turning as rapidly as I could, I was just in time to see a mounted figure disappear behind a ridge a mile away. At the same moment...
...dark and the cook fire was burning brightly; so Eddie stopped just long enough to kick dirt on the flames before running to his prearranged post. There we lay, one on each side of the hollow, with our pets singing like nightingales suffering from acute indigestion. Presently we heard a camel gurgle in response. It was not one of ours! By this time I was thinking furiously of certain quaint amusements indulged in by un-Frenchifled indigenes, in which the stranger within the gates is the principal actor. Suddenly there came a blast on a whistle and on all sides...
...known that she has discovered finger prints of "Walter", her spirit control. Although "Walter" died without leaving any finger prints to use as comparison the marks are undoubtedly authentic, according to Dr. Crandon, the husband of the psychic lady. At the same time, he says, was heard the ticking of a celestial clock, and perfume, from heavenly sources, was smelt...
...printer's trade, managed a Kansas politician's small-town newspaper, took his good manners to Kansas City and worked on the Star. He married a schoolteacher, got his own small-town newspaper, let his girth grow and joined the diligentsia. Eventually he made his voice heard all over the country. He has taken care not to get too slicked up; has preserved a certain loudness and exaggeration which show, even when he discusses national politics or literature, that he is still a small-town man. But he stands for the very best national things...
...Scriabine, of that deft and revered knight, Sir Arthur Sullivan. They can understand performers who make fun of serious music, burlesquing well-known classics, but how performers can, without irreverence, have fun with music these complainers cannot see. Few such gentry were in the Cleveland audience which last week heard a drunken Russian cab driver conduct the Volga boat-song. Nicolai Sokolov, Cleveland Orchestra conductor, famed interpreter of the Russians, had just directed his orchestra through an all-Tchaikovsky program that ranged from a tuneful bonbon for fatigued capitalists (the Sleeping Beauty Waltz) to the rounded maturity of the Fourth...