Word: thunderously
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...whose salvos rocked high heaven and shook the windows of the church wherein burghers and visitors had gathered to hear the trombone choir and the local soloists deliver Bach's Christmas Oratorio, the little town of Bethlehem, Pa., lay still. Conductor Wolle raised his baton. A clap of thunder split the sky like a peasecod. Lightning assaulted the darkness through every shivering window, and the place seemed, for a moment, to be filled with whirling laughter, like the mirth of demons. Conductor Wolle brought down his baton with the air of a man casting out a devil. The festival...
Silence fell, to be punctuated now and again by an encouraging cheer. Binocularless women plagued their staring escorts for information. There were some eager "Yesses" and some hesitant "No-o-oes." Excitement grew as the thunder of hoofs approached. Manna romped home the winner and, as usual, there were more white than flushed faces; for rarely does a Derby favorite romp fast enough...
...have murmured: "The Barber is a jinx." So formidable is this superstition that, if the Barber is revived, M. Rotiche will insure Mme. Melius against sickness. In Vienna, Maria Jeritza declared that Tenor Piccaver, with whom she had been singing in Cavallcria Ritsticana, had sabotaged her success, stolen her thunder, seduced her applause, refused to throw her down as his role demanded. Vienna papers recalled what had happened to Maria Jeritza when another embattled tenor, Beniamino Gigli, threw her, as his role did not demand, into the footlights of the Metropolitan Opera House, Manhattan (TIME. Feb. 9). That such another...
Dormitories, recitation halls, libraries, banks, boathouses, subway stations, monuments and gymnasiums peer forth from behind tall brick chimneys and defy us to orient ourselves. The street cars thunder past every minute or two, and conversation on Massachusetts Avenue is impossible due to their flat-wheeled discord. The chance of meeting a violent death from automobiles every time we go to class has become common-place, and only a falling blimp or an earthquake can now thrill us. If the purpose of life be considered as a preparation for the hereafter, we are rapidly acquiring the proper nonchalance toward the transition...
...sprinkle of rain fell; thunder stamped in Heaven; the webbing went up. 'They're 'rorf," shouted William Gibbs McAdoo, Marshall Field, Knute Rockne, Harry F. Sinclair, Walter J. Salmon, many Elks, Knights, a haberdasher, a sculptor, 75,000 assorted odd fellows and their ladies...