Word: sleeps
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...rain beat an incessant tattoo upon his face patiently waiting for eight bells to strike so that in the quiet seclusion of his room, he could have a pleasant social visit with Mark Twain, Kenneth Roberts or a glance at TIME or FORTUNE before he turned over to sleep. All this, of course, while the gale raged and howled outside his comfortable quarters...
...junior class, president of her sorority (Delta Delta Delta), gets excellent marks, majors in government like her brother. Sophomore Russell, president of his class since entering, debates on the varsity team, plans to enter law school next fall. Exclaimed President Rose: "Now maybe I can get some sleep." Next day she began campaigning for class vice president...
...rolled along behind eight horses with its Household Cavalry escort, policemen and soldiers snapped their heels to attention. Outside the Abbey, the procession halted while an imaginary Coronation service unwound itself, and officials with furrowed brows peered at stopwatches. On the cavalcade's return journey any wisps of sleep that still hovered over the 200,000 sightseers were swept away by the rousing brass of massed bands. Because the procession took 30 minutes longer than the schedule allows there was many an anxious head-to-head in the Duke of Norfolk's Buckingham Gate office this week...
Died. Brigadier General Jay Johnson Morrow, 67, U. S. A. retired, onetime (1921-24) Governor of the Canal Zone, Wartime chief engineer of the First Army, uncle of Mrs. Charles Augustus Lindbergh; of cerebral hemorrhage, in his sleep; in Englewood, N. J., where his famed younger brother Dwight died the same way six years ago. General Morrow's ashes will be scattered over the Canal Zone's Chagres River...
...hope filtering down through the nearly impenetrable jungle: in the work of such men as the late liberal journalists Randolph Bourne. Herbert Croly, the late poet Hart Crane. But unfortunately for the reader, when Waldo Frank approaches the appreciative he verges on the mystical, puts his audience to sleep or to flight. And his practical suggestions for clearing the jungle are likely to strike his hearers as more furious than sound: "I know a way out, if you want one. Let the conduits of 'information' and 'news' be placed in the hands of philosophers...