Word: wanderlied
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...girl. Grosjean pursues them, somehow manages to catch up, shoots Charles. It is a shrewd blow, but Charles recovers. Such is Grosjean's remorse that he is allowed to join the brothers' menage. They drift to Mexico, collect more horses, women, children, a priest. Karin, tired of wandering, wants a house, so they decide to marry their women and settle down. Their community is settled, thriving, increasing, when aging Karin dies. The brothers leave all the rest, take to the trail once more, wander till they are feeble old men. On top of a mountain Death comes...
Edward Birdsall of Yorktown Heights, N. Y. was a small boy in short pants in 1892. He wandered about his father's farm on Croton Lake and did the things that boys do. He picked up a small box turtle, carved his initials, E. B. 1892 on the shell and let it go. On July 15, 1931, Edward Birdsall, farmer, was mowing hay on his farm at Croton Lake when a turtle crossed the swath. He picked it up and saw the initials E. B. 1892 on its shell. His old friend had returned, no larger, no quicker...
...irrelevant reactions, Mrs. Parker has written, in Laments for the Living, some first-rate dialogs. But when her climate curdles her to rhyme, her curtness often turns to slightly acidulous whey. Poetess Parker's ideas can usually be contained in a quatrain though she often lets them wander farther. Death and Taxes has a few neat quatrains...
During the reading period the Vagabond is able to dispatch all his mundane business in the course of the day, unhampered as he is by the press of lectures. In the evenings he is left free to wander carelessly in those sequestered spots which fancy dictates. Upon occasion the lights of Boston "flaring like a dreary dawn" beckon him over the river to while away the evening hours. In the course of his peregrinations intellectual needs often give way to the more physical delights of food and nourishment. The old fellow has happened upon many an interesting and delectable dish...
...Baclava make a meal worth the cating. Down near the market there is the restaurant which was an institutions of our fathers', Durgin's. A good trustworthy place. The Vagabond finds it, that satisfies the most lusty paunch. And after the evening's sportiveness he is wont to wander in to Jakie Wirth's to call out for a "seidel of light" with which to wash down rye bread and cheese. Those many who scan these lines may have already been to and disliked these places: they may go and dislike them, but there are many of both...