Word: murmurs
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...outfit. If you don't think so. just start something. You'll ride the cushions home and there'll be food for you. That's more than Hoover did for you. I'm giving you guys a break. What do you say? [A minor murmur of dissent.] Then you bums can walk and I'll see you get a damned good start. I won't call in any troopers to massacre you. I'll put you to hell out myself. . . . I'll knock the teeth out of anybody who hangs around...
...slap at insurgency brought a murmur of approval. Alice Roosevelt Longworth, who had been sitting in a box with Mrs. Patrick Jay Hurley, stiffened when her father's name was mentioned for the first & only time during the convention. The Utah delegation applauded when a conference on bimetallism was promised. The oil states held a little parade when high oil tariffs were recommended. The house rang righteously with indignation when Chairman Garfield deplored the burgeoning kidnapping racket. Then the words "the 18th Amendment" were pronounced and the atmosphere electrified...
...stunned with disappointment. A bewildered murmur that rose to a roar swept the crowd. Here & there were a few boos. Then suddenly, starting from nowhere, they began to sing "America" until the night sky seemed to tremble with their resolute voices. Later in small groups they drifted back to their crazy shacks and shelters on the mudflats...
...situation-comedy rather than to outdoor sport, and it almost always contains a murderer, a lunatic, a butler or a ghost. This time the lunatic is Stuart Erwin. He thinks that he is Napoleon and his lugubrious schizophrenia prompts him to describe Claudette Colbert as "La Duchesse" and to murmur 'Waterloo!" with the pensive intonations of a hoot-owl. His resourceful guards recapture him by singing "La Marseillaise." Meanwhile Claudette Colbert's squeals grow less indignant...
...lull still hung over the city as though the good citizens had refused to awaken. No windows were flung wide to groet the morning, no one went whistling to work, the breakfast bacon seemed to lie quiet in its own grease. As the day wore on a strange murmur like far off breakers on a distant beach began in the St. Antoine to break the sullen quietude. Travelling slowly along the crooked streets it gathered volume always nearer, always louder. At last with a great roar it burst out around the high walls of the Bastille and the Revolution...