Word: sadly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...violent minority must by this time have become heartily sick of this goal post business. Excusable some eight years ago as the overt expression of collegiate rejoicing at a long awaited victory over a traditionally triumphant Harvard, the assault has at long sad last become a trite ritual. Last week the H.A.A. News dismissed the destruction of the posts as a manifestation of that old demon rum, and pointed with pride to the fact that very few of either student body engaged in the fray...
...French bombing planes of maximum size thundering in circles all day over Belgrade made sad-eyed French President Albert Lebrun feel safer. M. le Président also had with him War Minister Marshal Pétain, a company of steel-helmeted French infantry, 200 bluejackets and 50 picked detectives of the Sûreté Nationale...
When the howling band had emerged from the Stadium with the goal post they careened down the river bank, where by an unhappy mischance, it fell into the torrent. Loud was the wailing at the sad event; equally great was the pleasure of the assembled multitudes when one of the members of the throng stepped forward, pulled up his pants to his knees, and ran into the water to his waist. Seizing the floating trophy, he was about to remount the bank, when he was seized with the happy idea that it was now his, and his alone...
From the palace of the Roman Emperor Diocletian high above the harbor floated a great black banner and other streamers of crepe hung from nearly every window in the town when the Dubrovnik came in with its sad freight. For a few hours King Alexander lay in state, before being carried to a special train and sent on a slow roundabout journey through the provinces of his enemies to his capital. At every important town the train made a brief pause, longest of all in Zagreb, capital of "rebellious Croatia." If any still hated Alexander they dared not show...
...Newspaper men's codes are under their hats, not in the rule books. There are two commandments: do not betray a confidence, and do not knife a comrade." On female reporters, Stanley Walker is eloquent. He recites the familiar blanket indictments, "some outrageously prejudiced and others based on sad experience": "They are slovenly in their habits of mind. . . . They won't look up names and facts. The observant editor feels that if they were housewives, the dishes would still be in the sink. They are impolite, screaming for 'service' from overworked telephone operators, the help...