Word: flower
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...grey belly of a Zeppelin over London, bombers work quietly. Through the night drop the bombs, making fountains and spraying plants of fire in the narrow streets, shaking the theatre where a chorus dances and the bar rooms and restaurants where people are eating and drinking. A flower-woman runs out to the corner to see the danger better and a nobleman goes up to his roof for the same purpose. The raid in the fog, brilliantly photographed, is the justification of an unconvincing anecdote about a British aviator (John Garrick) and a waitress (Helen Chandler) in a camp canteen...
...last come into some of its rightful heritage as an institution for recognized professional training. In the past it has received far less financial aid than the other graduate schools in Harvard, and for some time it looked as if it would be just another case of the flower wasting its sweetness on a very arid desert air. Fortunately this impression has now been proved unfounded and the school is being offered some materials and opportunity for development...
...fine sense of the artistic unity of the whole, and such a nice realization that she was there purely for background. So superbly is she unobtrusive, so definitely part of the picture, that one forgets she is the same Lynn Fontanne who was the charming mistress in "Caprice", the flower girl in "Pygmalion", the artist's wife in "The Doctor's Dilemma", and Raina in "Arms...
...Into the East Room, curtained, flower-banked, walked President Hoover alone. Down into a metal casket set near the wall he gazed for silent sorrowful minutes into the face of his dead friend and Secretary of War, James William Good. After the President returned, the Cabinet, the Supreme Court, Senators, Representatives, army officers, foreign envoys stood by for the simple funeral service. The President sat motionless, with bowed head, in a damask-covered gilt chair. His eyes followed the casket as it was borne away from the White House to the beat of muffled drums for its last journey...
...poor foreign peddler with a pack on his back. . . . This peddler became a great and successful merchant and when he died, his will gratefully gave his large estate to this banker. When Mr. Harris was buried, nearly every man, woman and child in his county came to drop a flower on his red clay grave. Replace such a man by a city clerk awaiting every morning a circular letter or his master's voice out of a loud speaker's horn? God forbid...