Word: landing
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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When he was 16, folks wagged their heads mournfully and predicted that Benjamin would break his father. But Horace Jones, a covered-wagon man who got the choicest piece of land in northwestern Missouri, would take a lot of breaking. A shrewd, hard-bitten Welshman, he founded the town of Parnell, ran the Parnell bank, and knew more about raising cattle than anybody in Nodaway County. He wanted Ben to become a banker, but that wasn't in the cards...
...England and of Ireland, which at that time were part of the European continent, took the cold and perished. Then the ice melted and the sea rose isolating Ireland and England. Fast moving little hedgehogs, shrews and stoats came galloping from Europe to Ireland across a narrow bridge of land before the sea closed in. As for the slower snakes, they got only as far as England. And that, should the professor be right, was no better than they deserved...
...school near Paris run by the Christian Brothers; five years later he was teaching there. He heard much talk then of the "proletariat" and of revolution. But to farm-boy Maurin such solutions did not seem to be solutions at all. Man, he felt, should stay close to the land...
...would be easier for people to be good." His message was simple and uncompromising: capitalism, with its foundations in usury and its dehumanizing of man by machines, is just as bad for mankind as socialism with its depersonalizing state. Workers, he thought, should leave the factories and work the land in agrarian communities retaining the barest minimum of private property. Participation in modern war he held to be always wrong-all Christians should be pacifists. And the best state of all for a Christian, said Peter Maurin, is voluntary poverty...
...Eliot has had a vision, as is well known, of 'the cactus land,' of a parched, desertic world-not of a dark so much as of an ash-grey age-in which the springs of life dried. In painting Mr. Eliot it has been my endeavor to convey . . . some vestige of all that. So you will see in his mask, drained of too hearty blood, a gazing strain, a patient contraction, the body slightly tilted (in the immaculate armor of sartorial convention) in resigned anticipation of the worst...