Word: ways
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Fascist youths, returning from afternoon drill, broke ranks and demonstrated violently in front of the Soviet Embassy. Most Italian papers were cautious in their comments but Il Telegrafo, organ of Foreign Minister Count Ciano, disapprovingly observed, "In the great Nordic plain of the Continent the wolves are having their way...
...Vagabondage of Dreams." Since World War II has caused few casualties in France, the famed chateaux of the Loire are not yet converted into hospitals as they were in World War I. French women last week were actually having a good deal harder time in every way than French troops at the front. In a broadcast to women on their wartime duties which could have been made only in France, Poet-Playwright Jean Giraudoux...
Died. Henry H. Colpus, 76, who claimed to be the firstborn (illegitimate) son of King Edward VII of England; in St. Petersburg,. Fla. His story: "My mother ... a young widow ... on her way to the Ascot races . . . was passing through Windsor Park alone when she met the young Prince [of Wales] She did not go to the races at all. He took her away. . . . My mother was a Quakeress and she felt that it was a spiritual marriage. But... he could not acknowledge her as his wife because he was the Prince of Wales. She wept and he gave...
...Russia is a functioning Socialist State and as such is a congenital foe of Fascism. . . . Russia . . . was forced to deal with Hitler in its own way. . . . [The Living Church] calls upon me to 'sever all relations' with those bright enough to understand what is going on, suggesting that I am falling for 'their essentially un-Christian propaganda.' Well, I think I know un-Christian propaganda when I see it and there is rather more of it, in this war as in the last, coming from Christian pulpits and editorial offices of Church papers than from Union...
That Anderson is often concerned with deeply serious ideas, and has had the guts to take the hard way in the theatre, is beyond dispute. But the sound playwright who long ago wrote What Price Glory? and Saturday's Children has gradually given way to a fuzzy cosmos-gazer. Anderson is the most flatulent and pretentious of U. S. dramatists because he seldom does justice to his grandiose conceptions. The verse of Key Largo will not stand comparison with such contemporary dramatic poetry as T. S. Eliot's or Archibald MacLeish's. So little feeling, indeed...