Word: slushed
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...collusion with the Cambridge city government. They aren't after the voter's cash. These avaricious galoshers are just drooling for undergraduate sacker money; so what do they do, but fix it up with the boys to keep the streets about Harvard full of snow. In fact, trucks of slush from other parts of the town may have been dumped on Mt. Auburn St. late at night. The Liberal Club should take this situation in hand...
...three days a week my first class is at 11 o'clock; but on account of the ridiculous limitation of eating hours in the Union, I am forced to rise at 8, to dress in a hurry, and to plow through the slush to the Union. Arriving there, I invariably find that the Union clock is at least two minutes ahead of all other University clocks, and at least five minutes ahead of Eastern Standard Time. A cute little rope is stretched across the entrance to the dining hall. In front of the little rope stands that imposing personage, Miss...
...cold water. It runs down his throat, and into his stomach, every inch of its course distinctly felt. A sensation of feeble exhilaration comes over him, and he puts on his raiment, slowly, with hands that will not quite close. The prospect of a meal seems strangely boring; slush fills the street, and the passers-by are dressed in slightly spotted reds. Their faces are surly, and the Vagabond is ruminating futility...
...flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la" crooned the Vagabond as he trudged through the slush toward Plympton Street. He doubled his fists a little closer into the pockets of his Chesterfield and tried to think of the "Transmission of Heat." Professor Black transmits heat, he thought; but this night is air-cooled. One really should give Professor Black a break, though perhaps it would be better to wait for "Heaviside Calculus." Yes, "Heaviside Calculus" would be a much more fanciful subject than "Transmission of Heat," lectures being what they are, and there would be no temptation to introduce...
...transporting of the heavy loads of material up the side of the mountain through wind, rain and the heartbreaking drag of the slush and melting ice calls for hard work and lots of it. . . . Captain Bob Bartlett. . . is on the job all day long, encouraging, joking with them and occasionally rewarding them with a cup of coffee or sugar or tobacco...