Word: stares
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...ring up his cash-register. He had samples made, he set silk-mills a spinning with a three hundred dollar check; and presently his window on the avenue flashed forth its stripes of purple, blue, and green. But alas, this rainbow touched no pot of gold. Many paused to stare but few went in to buy. "Today the window is empty of its pride. The necktie menace has been put down...
...every New Year's reception for a half-century, indicates the attraction which the ritual has for the popular mind. Until it is re-instituted, there will be very little in a trip to Washington for John Robinson, except the great dome of the Library of Congress to stare...
...alone with his cobra. Regarded as sacred by most Indians, the cobra must be avoided, not slain. But Prisoner Bhopatkar, locked in his cell, could not avoid this one. Unarmed, neither could he kill it. As the cobra fixed him with its jeweled eyes, he sat crosslegged, giving back stare for stare. For ten minutes neither moved a muscle. Then the warden returned, clubbed the cobra to death. "That was wrong," said St. Gandhi severely. "The cobra's visit was a good omen...
...strikes ground, a cheerful gnome starts off belly flopper down the hill to school. A tall pine stands out in the pasture with the blackness of a widow in her weeds. There is the delicate, syncopated tinkle as a Morgan in a red cutter swerves through town. The mountains stare down upon the valleys grown old, and spare, and bleak over night. Young boughs trail their white burden on the road way. In the woods, where the sun falls, snow slides off the needles and drops with a soft thud. A tiny rabbit scurries off on hastily remembered business...
...California that was still bristling with forty-niners looked askance at Harte, with his foppish dress, his over-genteel manners. Harte returned the snobbish stare. With the flowing mustaches of his day, a leonine head of hair, an aquiline nose that hinted, without betraying his Jewish ancestry, Harte was a fine figure of a literary man. In later years it was reported that he had lived a rough and minerish life. Biographer Stewart doubts it, thinks Harte's devilishness was mostly in printing offices. As long as Harte kept culling posies from the rhetorical anthology he considered good writing...