Word: piles
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...then both turned to look at Francis. With slow, accustomed motions the boy was taking off his clothes. He tossed the last garment onto the pile at their feet. "Up to this time," he said, "I have called Pietro Bernardone father; now I will serve only my Father in Heaven." He went out, clad in a bit of sackcloth, through the door. It was winter. Frost blackened the orange trees. They say that he was singing...
...complete redecoration of this so-called "secret bed chamber." One good job done, Queen Mary passed to another locked bedroom door. Impassive but expectant the royal attendants waited. Would Her Majesty order that room disturbed? On the bureau had lain undisturbed for more than three decades a little pile of silver and copper coins. They had been left there carelessly by Prince Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence and Avondale, before he contracted influenza and died at Sandringham (1892). He, the eldest son of Edward and Alexandra (then Prince and Princess of Wales) was heir presumptive to the British Crown. Moreover...
...journeys with a handbarrow full of stones up to the second floor of a building in process of construction. In the evening the muscles of my arms were swollen. I ate some potatoes roasted upon cinders and threw myself in all my clothes on to my bed: a pile of straw. At five on the Tuesday I woke and returned to work. I chafed with the terrible rage of the powerless. The padrone made me mad. The third day he said to me: 'You are too well dressed! . . .' That phrase was meant to convey an insinuation. I should...
...Coolidge farm at Plymouth on shares with the President (it is assessed at $700), seemed more concerned with the chores than the first officer of the realm. Once or twice he puckered his nose when he noticed Mr. Coolidge stoop to pick up something, then walk to a large pile of junk, old iron, odds and ends, between the house and the barn. It developed that the President had salvaged some rusty wire nails...
Some 30 years ago, the late Cornelius Vanderbilt conceived the idea of building himself a $1,000,000 home. He did. Its red brick facade with white stone facing, its handsome wrought iron fence, rise in all their French majesty on the south of Plaza Square, Manhattan, a magnificent pile. "But who," you ask, "would want to make it his private home?" Just so. The shutters...