Word: raining
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...clock the Dixie was pitching, rolling and trembling from stem to stern in the grip of a full-sized tempest which had caught her in the perilous Florida Straits. Night came down and the storm increased, sending waves clean over her bridge, blinding her officers with solid sheets of rain. At 8:12 p. m. the Dixie's bottom grated over something that felt like a giant washboard, stuck fast on a hidden reef...
...summer showed more excitement about its team than ever before. Detroit newssheets send four or more reporters to cover each game. Fortnight ago, when a game was postponed, a Detroit daily published a four-column picture of Pitcher Lynwood ("Schoolboy") Rowe, staring disconsolately out of a window at the rain. Said the Tigers' Manager Mickey Cochrane last week: "It doesn't make much difference whether we play the Cardinals, Giants or Cubs. . . . Our players are the same, but they have improved since last year...
...that the only way to impress his existence on the U. S. public is to photograph him in postures even less dignified than those habitually assumed by his older brother (see cut). The fight was planned for last fortnight at the Garden's Long Island Bowl, postponed by rain, then rescheduled indoors when the demand for tickets made it apparent that Madison Square Garden could easily accommodate the crowd. Last week, in that arena, it finally took place...
Unaware of his death, the eight other racers dashed on into the rising sun, fighting rain squalls most of the way. Soon three of them were forced down by minor troubles. The remaining five pressed on, managed to finish. First to swoop down over the 2,500 hardy enthusiasts who braved a Cleveland drizzle was Mister Mulligan, a white, high-wing monoplane designed, owned and flown by meticulous Benjamin Odell ("Benny"') Howard. Jumping from his plane, Pilot Howard stilled congratulations with: "I haven't won yet." He was right. Hard-driving Colonel Turner, Bendix winner...
...veiled sanctuary. Empress Waizeru Menen, who dearly loves the Christian solace of confession, and 70 plump brown Ethiopian ladies entered the Cathedral by another door. In concentric circles according to rank squatted court functionaries, deacons, laymen, foreign missionaries and U. S. Chargé d'Affaires Cornelius Engert. With rain beating monotonously outside, there arose the sound of bells and, from the sanctuary, the clash of cymbals and the jingle of sistra. Then began a two-hour mass, chanted in a long-dead patois of Greek and Arabic which many a worshipper mouthed without knowing what it meant...