Word: mounted
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...never quite get used to it either," she answered sympathetically, handing us the 124th Annual Report which informs its readers: "Corporate prosperity with its attendant benefits was again the principal factor in making 1955 another good year for Mount Auburn...
...turned our hearts and feet toward home. We left the 121 Harvardmen there interred; we abandoned without adequate tribute the roster of University presidents since John T. Kirkland, who died in 1810 (James Walker and Thomas Hill, the exceptions, repose elsewhere); and most important, we remained untouched by Mount Auburn's natural beauty which others have so enjoyed. No Euripides, no Ernest Hemingway. We just couldn't appreciate this gross slyvan glade speckled with gray Victorian masonry that the prospectus so proudly called "the City of the Dead." But then it was raining pretty hard.Edwin Booth, legendary figure...
Spruce Ave., we suspected, was the "Main Street" for the community's 59,919 inhabitants. On it, or close by, slumbered some of Mount Auburn's most distinguished residents, including Phillips Brooks, President Eliot, Julia Ward Howe, Charles Sumner, Louis Agassiz, and Edwin Booth. Others, such as Amy Lowell, Francis Parkman, Josiah Royce, and Oliver Wendell Holmes, were further removed to be sure, but there seemed to be no class distinction in non-sectarian Mount Auburn, and most definitely, there was no "wrong side of the tracks." Spruce Ave., while invigorating, seemed exhausting, and we felt our temples throb...
Clearly, we were making an exhaustive study, and we were sure that our editor-boss would permit a short rest. We reclined on a handy, if hard, piece of furniture and contemplated Mount Auburn's past...
Emerson led the assault of Harvard students of a comtemplative bent, who came to Mount Auburn to lose themselves in the shady walks. James Russell Lowell used to wander through Mount Auburn's glades "in pursuit of poetic thoughts," according to one noted writer, who also noted that Franklin Pierce was lost in thought under a tree there when he was informed that he had been nominated to the Presidency. Of course, we too were lost in contemplation, but since no one rushed to inform us of any impending elections, or great poetical thoughts, we just thought of the mist...