Word: moaning
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Tonight, or, strictly speaking, in the wee hours of the morning, the siren on top of Widener will let loose with its unearthly moan, street lights all over Cambridge will go out, and Harvard's fourth test blackout will be under way. Defense plants will adjust their blackout shades, all night bean-cries will be darkened, and those solitary night-owls who are still up and about will have to snuff out their midnight...
Ersatz Candy. The candymakers (fourth largest U.S. food industry) met in convention last week to moan and groan. Reasons: lost imports from 29 countries; the rationing of sugar and cocoa (which formerly constituted half of $400,000,000 worth of candy sold each year). But the confectioners pushed their product as an important Army food item; and bravely produced new wartime candies, featuring: powdered milk, dried fruit, domestic nuts, shredded and toasted soybeans, corn syrup, sweet potatoes, cereal, cracker meal, cornstarch, gelatin, peanut butter, and three-day-old bread...
Then with stone walls crumbling, bar racks and asylums emptying fast, penitentiaries ablaze, and the Capitol presumably under control, Poet Cowley heard "an unchoked sigh, a moan of liberation" rise from mean streets, moonless areaways, factory gates, convict camps and the Cotton Belt...
...Bess, his woman, kills a man and then flees from the white man's justice leaving Bess to seek refuge with Porgy. Then comes one of the most mystic scenes ever to be put on the stage--the "saucer burial" of the dead man. While the Negroes chant and moan melancholy airs in the darkened room, they slowly give the widow enough money to save her husband's body from the medical students and give it proper burial. Soon after that there comes the glorious love duet, "Bess, You Is My Woman Now." This idyllic scene between Porgy and Bess...
...only fanfare that attended the first Any Questions? program last January was the moan of sirens and the smash of explosives. BBC had been bombed; the producer of the program was trying to get his family out of a danger zone 200 miles away; it was a wet, cold, angry evening. At an emergency underground studio arrived Expert No. 1: wild-haired Professor Julian Huxley, fresh from the Zoo, where he had been seeing to the safety of tigers. Expert No. 2, Philosopher Cyril Edwin Mitchinson Joad, clumped in on loud-nailed boots, carrying a vast haversack. Expert...