Word: breakfast
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...rapid fire barrage of mythical football teams at present being laid down by the daily press has discouraged many a peaceful breakfast hour. Digestion is impossible for many who feel intensely on subjects athletic, when they find that obvious super-tackles are not even mentioned by the eclectics who pick the all-so-and-so elevens...
...flash emanating from the Towers of Oxford. Within the week eight hundred products of the traditional college system gathered together at the office of the proctor in answer to a bogus printed notice. Coming at 9.15 in the morning this practical joke must have broken up many a hospitable breakfast party, but the Oxonians even in disillusion maintain the leisurely tradition and cheered and rollicked about for over an hour before dispersing. The attendance of the fire department and the efforts of the proctor and his "bulldogs", without which no British college seems complete, finally succeeded in persuading the crowd...
...they bury the hatchet? Mr. Howard, returning from a hunting trip in Wyoming, stopped off in Denver, talked with Mr. Bonfils. They talked, off and on, for nearly a week. Finally, each agreed to kill a newspaper. This leaves Denver with the Scripps-Howard Rocky Mountain News for its breakfast table and the Bonfils Post for its afternoon fare, with both for its Sunday picnic. The prices were raised by both publishers from 2? daily and 5? Sunday to 3? daily and 10? Sunday. The Rocky Mountain News added Associated Press service to its United Press service.* The Post added...
...Hoover went out and caught the cat, took it indoors. After breakfast, she accompanied her husband to a polling place, with their sons and daughter-in-law. They returned to a house full of people, sandwiches, chrysanthemums, telegraph tickers and commotion, to wait and hear how many millions of citizens were voting the way the Hoovers had voted. If Mrs. Hoover thought about the black cat during the day, there was another "omen," too. It was not only Mrs. Smith's birthday, but Herbert Hoover...
...mists of dawn to gather, as light breaks, at a country gate or a cross roads between fields fenced with wood. Kids on stumpy ponies and millionaires slithering upon their priceless hunters, will go over the hedges, fall, or be in at the death and then jog back to breakfast, late in the autumn mornings...