Word: mounted
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...north of the New York City boundary. Last week Cushman's Sons mixed the bulk egg yolks with vanilla, sugar, cornstarch, milk and water to make custard filling for cream puffs and eclairs. Four thousand such pastries were sold one day to consumers in White Plains, Yonkers, Mount Vernon, New Rochelle, Ossining, Scarsdale, Tarrytown and a score other communities. Next day two thousand eaters of those cream puffs and éclairs were violently sick at their stomachs, poisoned by pus germs in the custard...
...date now set at circa 1400 B. C. Then came the day of unleavened bread, when the passover must be killed. . . . And when the hour was come, He sat down, and the twelve apostles with Him. . . . And He came out, and went, as He was wont, to the Mount of Olives: and His disciples also followed Him. . . . And He that was called Judas . . . drew near unto Jesus to kiss Him. . . . Then took they Him, and led Him, and brought Him into the high priest's house...
Born 67 years ago in Bald Mount, Pa., the plump, dour little merchant has cherished his farm-learned virtues, of which the dearest is Hard Work. He has spent his millions freely in a long war against Rum, Tobacco and other worldly evils, has set up a $25,000,000 Kresge Foundation to further his moral and philanthropic ends.* Offered a drink or a cigar, Mr. Kresge says politely: "Hoping always to have my own views and opinions respected, I respect the opinions of others." Another Kresgeism: "If there were any sound arguments to be advanced on behalf...
Before dawn in Montreal one morning last week, hundreds of pious folk began toiling up the icy slopes of Mount Royal to a long, low crypt cut out of the rock of the Côte des Neiges. Many of them brought food, planning to spend the day which was the feast of St. Joseph, foster father of Christ. By nightfall 50,000 pilgrims had crowded into the crypt. They had heard pontifical high mass sung by Montreal's Auxiliary Bishop Alphonse Emmanuel Deschamps, later assisted at benediction of the Blessed Sacrament given by Vicar General Monseigneur Conrad Chaumont...
...monastery. For a week he is dead to his friends; they and the outside world dead to him. Of course if he wants to strain his finger on a damnable little black button, he can talk to a friend brave enough to take the mile jaunt up Mount Auburn Street on a treacherous trolley...