Word: meadowed
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...when he should sit for me next. I named a date. He consulted his note book, in which every fifteen minutes of his day are accounted for, and observed that on that day he had really intended to go out to the Presidential hunting lodge in the Schorf meadow for a holiday. Of course I offered to change the date, but he insisted on keeping the appointment. He would not for anything in the world have had his pleasure interfere with my convenience. Imagine the Emperor being so considerate...
...suffered himself to be so humiliated in order that might taste the excitement of riding over the frosted fields, in the wake of a curving pack, after some red and frightned vixen! Now, this week, all over the J. S., fox-hunting approaches the crest of its season. At Meadow Brook and Radnor, at Warrenton and Millbrook, at Onwentsia and Milwaukee, the riders trot through the dark mists of dawn to gather, as light breaks, at a country gate or a cross roads between fields fenced with wood. Kids on stumpy ponies and millionaires slithering upon their priceless hunters, will...
...their paddock at Meadow Brook, the ponies, most of them mares, were slim and beautiful. Their light hooves touched the ground with delicate impatience; they arched their necks and spoke to each other in a language whose only meaning was enthusiasm. Hearing the voices in the stands, smelling the turf and the excitement, they wished the game to begin...
Nominee Hoover made some history. He was the first G. O. P. nominee for President ever seen in Tennessee. He stood on a platform in a mountain meadow at Elizabethton and, in the fourth main speech of his campaign proper, addressed the whole South. He implied that he was neither an orator nor a humorist nor particularly a politician. He spoke as a Westerner, as a member of an administration whose record he thought was good, as a champion of the Home, as one who wants to "abolish poverty...
There were about 20,000 people in the quiet stands; a cold rain dripped from the smutty sky and early autumn mist closed in around Meadow Brook. Airplanes rose suddenly from invisible fields and flew low across the enormous billiard table of turf; a Scoreboard said "Argentine-6; U. S.-6." The gong sounded for the eighth chukker and two polo teams cantered in from the northeast corner of the field...