Word: slaving
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...American in India, whose great-grandfather was a Louisiana slave-owner, I have proclaimed the Negro issue in the U.S. a dying problem. I am indignant that a mob of Baltimore bigots should make me eat my words and, worse still, drag America's name . . . into the mud before my Indian associates . . . We abroad are the ones who have to answer to the world for such conduct. What possible answer can we give? (THE REV.) B. H. MILLER Poona, India...
...their Chinese allies have vowed to build the second largest. By ideology, the Communists are committed to the defeat of the West; they are dedicated men, and they have the H-bomb. On fundamentals they have not retreated one jot-on Germany, on Austria, on the satellites and the slave labor camps. Communist papers still spread hate of the U.S. while their diplomats talk placatingly...
What Is "Modern"? By now, the birth and growth of jazz have become American folklore. The critics like to call it "music of protest": it started with slave chants, work songs, blues, gaudy Negro funeral parades in New Orleans−those noisy expressions of bravado in the face of death by such greats-to-be as King Oliver, Sidney Bechet and Louis Armstrong who blatted their way from the cemetery playing High Society or Didn't He Ramble. New Orleans jazz moved to Chicago, where a crowd of delighted white musicians pounced on it, adding a few refinements...
...symphony's first and third movements were darkly pensive, shifty, and reflecting Tchaikovsky's Marche Slave as through a flawed windowpane. The scherzo thrummed along at top speed, flinging itself into several swirling climaxes before its few minutes were over. The finale opened with a grumpy subject, developed an Oriental flavor as the winds spun harsh-voiced arabesques, then fell into a heavy-booted Russian two-step. Conductor Dimitri Mitropoulos whipped the fine performance to an uproarious end that brought a storm of applause, a few cheers, and an approving comment from Soviet U.N. Delegate Andrei Vishinsky...
...work. Koestler confesses to a recurring dream in which he shouts warning of terrible danger to a crowd, but no one will listen. With his faculty for making his nightmares come true, he is now living in England, whose natives "believe . . . that prisons and firing squads [and] slave camps just 'do not happen' to ordinary people...