Word: salte
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President Herbert Ware Reherd of Westminster College, Salt Lake City, later advertised again in the Presbyterian magazine: "Five special trains and many smaller parties visited Westminster College and Salt Lake City going to or returning from...
...only Christian College in five States." (The italics are TIME'S.) Denominational colleges, other than Latter Day Saints and Roman Catholic, in Utah and the five contiguous states are-Methodist: Gooding (Gooding, Idaho), University of Denver and Iliff School of Theology (Denver) ; Presbyterian: Idaho (Caldwell, Idaho), Westminster (Salt Lake City) ; Nazarene: Northwestern Nazarene (Nampa, Idaho) ; Congregational: Colorado (Colorado Springs, Colo.); Pillar of Fire: 'Westminster (Denver...
...Last week, however, the failure of Col. Charles A. Lindbergh's Spirit of St. Louis to function properly when the aviator attempted to fly in it from Washington to Manhattan, prompted Mr. Mitchell to further criticisms. After maintaining that the Spirit of St. Louis suffered exposure to corrosive salt air while being transported home on the U. S. cruiser Memphis ("there was no excuse for not keeping this plane safe and dry"), Mr. Mitchell added that the plane was under naval care at Washington. Calling the plane's inability to take Colonel Lindbergh to New York...
...main, Saltacres is a study in novelists' materials. Reeds, rushes, weatherbeaten barns, pebbled beaches, a whitish sea, gulls and blackbirds gliding and skimming from foam-splashed boulder to knotted and salt-rimed stump, broken love to the tattoo of sympathetic rains and a pathological religions mania to the cresendo of a venegeful thunderstorm, delight the eye and, chaotically enough, provoke the emotions but the relation of these things to a masterful novel is less than that of sand to granite. Not only should, in this case the parts or particles cohere more closely but there might well be other elements...
...second part, time passes. "The house was left; the house was deserted. It was left like a shell on a sandhill to fill with dry salt grains now that life had left it. The long night seemed to have set in; the trifling airs, nibbling, the clammy breaths, fumbling, seemed to have triumphed. The saucepan had rusted and the mat decayed. Toads had nosed their way in. Idly, aimlessly, the swaying shawl swung to and fro. . . . Poppies sowed themselves among the dahlias; the lawn waved with long grass; giant artichokes towered among roses; a fringed carnation flowered among the cabbages...