Word: ils
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...woman edged through the crowd unnoticed, holding a small revolver between her cupped hands which she extended toward Il Duce, as though in adoring supplication. Taking careful, point-blank aim she pulled the trigger; but at that same instant a band struck up the Fascist hymn "Giovinezza," and Signor Mussolini threw back his head proudly to listen. The bullet sped, but not into his brain. He had thrown back his head far enough so that the leaden slug only clipped an atom of flesh from the tip of his nose...
Powder burns stung Il Duce's lips and cheek, the pistol had been fired so close. Yet he interposed to prevent a mob from lynching his would-be assassin, the Honorable Violet Albina Gibson, sister of the irish peer, William Gibson, second Baron Ashbourne. Dictator Mussolini, just, secured for Miss Gibson a safe refuge in jail. She was pronounced insane by Italian alienists (TIME, Aug. 16); but Fascist feeling ran so high that it was necessary to give her continued jail protection. Last week, one year and one month after her irresponsible act, Miss Gibson was put aboard...
...more than princely might are the heels of Signer Benito Mussolini, and last February they left a depression upon numerous clods as he plowed and sowed personally a small field of wheat on his farm near Forli, in the foothills of the Apennines. The iron features of Il Duce seemed those of a stern husbandman as he guided his old-fashioned plow drawn by two white oxen past purring cinema cameras; but to relieve and humanize the drama little Bruno, his younger son, straddled one of the oxen. Not until last week, however, did newsgatherers learn the impressive details...
...July 29, Signor Benito Mussolini will be 44; but last week the Associated Press reported that Il Duce, at two score and three, already manifests a species of partiality usually characteristic of older men, as follows...
Generous, the Government at Rome offered to defray the entire expense of building an electric railway from the nearest Italian junction to the frontier of San Marino. Surely, said Il Duce's agents last week, surely the Grand Council would cooperate in this great scheme of progress by appropriating the cost of completing the railway from the frontier straight in to the Borgo? Any other course would be to fly in the face of Providence, to refuse a generous offer, to antagonize the whole teeming sea of Italy above which San Marino rises like a silent islet...