Word: whose
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Dates: during 1870-1879
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HOLLIS HALL, which so narrowly escaped destruction on Wednesday last, was built from an appropriation of Pound 3,000 made by the General Court in 1761; and received its name from the Hollis family of London, whose benefactions to the College are so well known. Dedicated in the presence of both branches of the Provincial Assembly, it was named by Governor Bernard; after which, Taylor, a "Junior Sophister, pronounced, with suitable and proper action, a gratulatory oration in English." Its existence has not been uneventful. Struck by lightning in 1768, its honest old frame survived the thunderbolt...
...hear that initiatory steps have been taken in Boston for the formation of an Alpine Club, whose central field of labor will be the White Mountains. Among the benefits to be derived from organized effort, it was suggested that much might be done in determining the altitudes and positions of various mountains, ascertaining facts relating to the animals and fauna of the high regions, in tracing glacial action, in arriving at some definite results in regard to the nomenclature of mountains where the same eminences were known by different names or one or more mountains by the same name...
...writer who calls the Biglow Papers, the Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table, and Emerson's philosophical essays all belles-lettres; who places Noah Porter, - who could not even express ideas lucidly when appropriated; whose unhappy readers speak of him as of Tupper as a poet or Baird as a philosopher, - a writer who places Porter, as intellectual, opposed antithetically to Emerson and Fiske, as trivial; and who considers Porter's work the culmination of the intellect of Yale, - such a man, we say, has far too low an estimate of Yale's worth for us to contest...
This was an offence that Mr. Hatch was obliged to wink at, but, picking himself up from the scuppers, whither his majesty had rolled, he departed in high dudgeon to the captain's room, and thence degraded the pugnacious officer, putting in his place a retired New York policeman, whose sailing qualifications had been chiefly acquired in frequent trips (in a private capacity) to Coney Island, and, for aught I know, to the sweet repose of Mr. Blackwell...
...returned finally to the train, Bill furiously swearing, "By the holy horns of Beelzebub, if I bust my biler, I'll run that blasted critter down." The tender was emptied into the boiler, and the fireman sat on the safety-valve, and we ploughed along like an enraged elephant whose legs have been cut off by a circular saw. Still the calf kept a "leetle mite ahead," now and then playfully tapping the boiler front with its hind feet. At last it was too much for patience; Bill madly pulled the throttle for a final spurt, when, quite unfortunately...