Word: ported
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...belongs to Italy undisputed, dating from the Mussolini-Laval accord (TIME, Jan. 21, 1935). The French are the largest shareholders, holding 35%, but fear Italy has bought up nearly enough shares elsewhere to own stock control of this 494 miles of rail, linking Addis Ababa with the French port of Djibouti. Last week, according to the French, Il Duce had forced the road into a deficit for the first time in 14 years by ordering Viceroy Graziani last year to "ship nothing by rail on which freight has to be paid," using motor transport instead. Inadequacy of this was said...
...them: "Bats will roost in your belfries, trees thrust branches through mouldering buildings, grass grow in your streets!" Jay Gould put through his branch line after all, but with it, his unpleasant prophecy started to come true. The railroad made Jefferson's tributary back country independent of the port. That same year (1873) Government engineers decided Big Cypress Bayou was flooding farms and villages in the sandy lowlands, dynamited the natural dam which had backed the bayou up toward Jefferson, thus put the city's docks out of commission, ended its water commerce with Shreveport and New Orleans...
...Southampton, taking the Davieses cruising to the Spithead naval review, and after the English festivities are over, according to Ambassador Davies this week, the Sea Cloud will cruise across the North Sea into the Baltic and tie up at Leningrad-the first right royally splendiferous yacht to make that port since it was Petrograd and yachts of Grand Dukes galore lay in the breathtakingly beauteous harbor of "the Venice of the North...
...been taken off by the Canarias "so presumably the ship sank." Next day a Red seaman from the Mar Cantabrico popped up in France, said he was rescued by a fishing smack and that he saw the Canarias towing the crippled freighter and her rich cargo to a White port...
...decade and a half slipped by, at the end of which he received the appointment of Comptroller of Customs on wools, hides, and woll-fells in the port of London. By grant of the mayor and aldermen he occupied an entire dwelling on top of Aldsgate, ten minutes' walk from the quay known as Wool wharf where he worked over dull figures in heavy ledgers. Here at the eastern edge of turbulent little London, high over a busy street, and above his modestly-stocked buttery, the poet passed another decade--reading, writing, and drinking from the King's daily pitcher...