Word: snow
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...Word came from Plymouth, Vt., that the county commissioners in that neighborhood have regularly employed snow plows to keep clear the road from Ludlow to that town, so that if the President should decide at any time to visit his father, ill at Plymouth, there would be no chance of the Presidential automobile being ensnowed between the station and the homestead...
...hour later the shape returned to the field, gliding softly down through the twinkling myriads of snow. The creature's masters left their perches beneath her helium-filled belly. They reported that their charge, the RS-1, sole semirigid* dirigible in the U. S. and largest in the world, had conducted herself most gracefully on her frost-christened maiden flight. Aloft there had been an elevenmile wind, through which she had glided at 40 m. p. h. in steady circles over her abode...
There was, there is a certain satisfaction in connecting things. So when the winds of Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, whirled snow and cold air and an occasional cinder about the house with the room with the brass bed with the literary occupant, the literary occupant read two books, connected enough to satisfy the greatest stickler for good connections. For both the books concerned nephews, one, the glass relative of the Gentle Cardinal Peter Bon; the other, the equally transparent kinsman of the less gentle Betsy Trotwood. Dickens and Elinor Wylie! Then came a voice from a corner, crying...
...located near a river of any consequence. Ironically enough the cause of this international disaster was a period of warm rains and almost balmy weather which set in on Christmas night. By New Year's Day the great watersheds of Europe foamed and thundered with torrents of melting snow, which ordinarily pass harmlessly away during the long European spring. Telegraphers, working night and day over the few lines that were not down, flooded the dry portions of the earth with news of the aqueous catastrophe...
Journalistic wit and an old proverb united delectably on the front page of yesterday's Boston Herald. A telephone call, which specified house and street, but not the need, sent an engine of the Atlantic fire department clanging out into the snow. The destination was quickly attained, but, before the men could inquire into the cause of their summons, a low wail descended from a snowy tree. Like Androcles, the fire fighters hesitated. But the cry, like the unspecific lament of a hoot owl, did not betray whether it sprang from bird, beast, or fish. Yet it darted so pitifully...