Word: tramp
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...until 7 p. m. (with time out for lunch). Sharp on the stroke of 9 a. m., War Minister Klimentiy ("Klim") Voroshilov cantered into the Red Square on a sleek bay steed, three Red Army bands blared the "Internationale" and 60,000 troops began an earth-shaking tramp led by picked units of the Ogpu (secret service). New fighting units this year were eight-wheeled "Speed Tanks" mounting two-inch guns and four-motored bombing planes. Swooping through the sky in "Red Star" formation 300 fighting ships made even more noise than the exuberant 30-gun artillery salute...
Hardly 13, Arthur Fearon, a puny, whimpering, pinch-faced Liverpool schoolboy, is brutally forced to work by a drunken father. His first job, bailing bilge water out of a filthy ship and chipping salt from the boilers, so sickens him that he crawls on to a tramp steamer, escapes as a stowaway. His life on the freighter is grim with the obscenities of shipmates from cook to bo's'n. Here is not the sea of Conrad, romantic with austerities, but a sea which has beaten its devotees into a coarse ritual. "What kind of world was it into which...
When, at 16, she becomes pregnant, she steals 100 francs from the local post office and runs away to Bordeaux. There she miscarries the child, takes to prostitution as a starving bird takes to a cage. The captain of a tramp steamer gets her drunk, whisks her off with him to Venezuela. There he drops her; there, bit by bit, she begins to collect money to get back to her adored France...
...poor disabled Mr. Robertson's soul when he notices the lecherous glances with which the base Russian colonel is denuding Actress Desiree Tabor, a soprano with whom Mr. Robertson is in love. She is an Austrian countess. Somewhere during this part of the proceedings a file of Muscovites tramp in, begin singing "Light up! Take out your pipe and fill it to the brim-" whereupon they all start smoking cigarets. Marching By, in spite of its unconsciously jovial libretto, should get credit for some pleasant melodies by Jean Gilbert...
Unless the weather man forgets himself, Hanover, come Saturday, will find itself steeped in the traditional millpond atmosphere of late winter. Under such conditions, it is neither invigorating nor enjoyable to tramp through College Park or climb the Tower. The wonder of Baker, Sanborn and Carpenter lose their appeal after the first hour or so and the question arises of where to go and what to do. For the fraternity man the solution is simple--there is always the house and the radio. But for the house and the radio. But for the freshman who has contributed his check...