Word: pealed
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...ceremony draws to a close, Abbey carrilloneurs ring 5,040 changes of "Stedman triplets.'' Conductor H. N. Pitstow boasts proudly: "This will be the first time a full peal of 5,000 changes has ever been rung at a Coronation." The music is scarcely appreciated by queues and clusters of tired peers who, upon emerging from the Abbey, find at last one spot in the planning that has broken down: the car-parking and call system. Crouching on the steps in their finery, leaning against pillars, some of them must wait as much as four hours...
Rapidly the halycon days of leisurely warmth are approaching, when one can peal off his coat and relax on the banks of the Charles, of sensuous nights, when one can still peel his coat and gad about in open automobiles. Each year without fail the coming of spring means the return from hibernation of America's only nationally recognized institution. When you see pictures of broad-smiling, becapped youths and old young men in the papers who are reported to be "holding out", when mothers miss their offspring regularly in the long afternoons, when mayors start exercising their arm muscles...
...With the peal of 12 o'clock, A. A. Appleknockers '39, chairman of the gathering, disbanded the meeting till a year from last night. Henry J. Ibis ocC, was selected to convene the next year's meeting...
This new contraption, an affair of rope and iron rungs, will be encased in a wooden box with a plate glass front, just big enough to make a beautiful target for your foot. The idea is that at the first peal of the fire alarm, the unfortunate inmate of the room makes a flying leap at the box and kicks the front in. Then in one rapid motion he hurls the rope ladder out the window, first making sure that it is tied to something in the room, and clambers nonchalantly down the wall, trying to act as though...
From the opening line, "You will kill your father and marry your mother" which was spoken in dull, hollow tones by Richard C. Sullivan '35, from behind the hideous mask of the Narrator, to the final peal of thunder, supplied by the machinations of Whitney Cook, Jr. '36, the Dramatic Club's rendering of Jean Cocteau's "La Machine Infernale" (in translation) at the Repertory Theatre is a fine bit of technique and dramatization...