Word: sorrowings
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After an earlier story in the Charlotte Observer, a moderate paper, Waring did run a rambling editorial expressing "sorrow" over "the picketing of King Street stores in an attempt to force employment of clerks on the basis of race." Then the paper curtain descended once more-and stayed down. Said Waring: "This paper is not interested in promoting boycotts." Said News & Courier Assistant Editor Arthur Wilcox: "We don't think it's a story...
...antiquated first-class carriages; they despair if the diesel hauling them pants into a station 40 seconds late. When a moneylosing branch line closes down, the island is roiled with grief. Cried the headline over a lengthy London Times story last year: THE TIDDLYDIKE BRANCH LINE DIES TODAY. Sorrow had hardly faded before British Railways raised fares to pay for other uneconomical Tiddlydikes...
During the trial. Lewis coldly testified: "I cannot sorrow for those pallid, under fed, ill-nourished operators of small mines who can't procession." keep up with the economic One predictable result of Lewis' policy: the number of coal miners at work in the U.S. has been more than halved (to 142,400) in the past ten years. And as displaced miners grow more and more desperate for jobs, they are increasingly willing to take work wherever they can find it - including nonunion mines. Last year one-third of the coal mined in the U.S. "captive" (excluding...
Barefoot & Ragged. In his short lifetime (he was 43 when he died), Gorky knew more than his share of sorrow. Born Vosdanig Adoian in Turkish Armenia, he was three when his father deserted the family and ran away to avoid being conscripted into the Turkish army. During the Turkish massacres of the Armenians, his mother fled with the boy and his three sisters to Erivan in Russian Armenia. After his mother died at the age of 38, Gorky and his youngest sister decided to go to the U.S. Barefoot and ragged, they made their way to Tiflis. There they joined...
...novel preserves, as if in amber, all the forgotten joys of Victorian fiction. Here again are such stately nouns as provender and ablutions, adverbs like anew and perchance, adjectives like ruinated or commonsensical, once invaluable conjunctives like albeit. There are long majestic strings of rhetorical questions-"But why should sorrow be always creeping in upon joy? Why should it pierce him and find him out in this dear, beautiful place into which he had been wafted so mysteriously?" The plot-a 19th century version of the ancient tale of Tristan and Isolde-is every bit as lurid as the prose...