Word: salts
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...sorest lot of all, are Poland's peasants. There are 20,000,000 of them, 5,000.000 of whom are continually unemployed. Few can read, some in Galicia do not know that the Emperor Franz Joseph is dead and that they are no longer Austrian subjects. To them salt is like gold dust, bread like caviar. But last week peasant boys were stolidly shuffling to mobilization centres, farmers were sending their only horses to bolster the country's cavalry-minded army...
...past six years the Boston Symphony's Berkshire Festival, near Stockbridge, Mass.,has provided an elegant musical salt lick amid the favorite summer grazing grounds of Boston's contented Brahmins. Spooned delicately out by the great Dr. Serge Koussevitzky and his flawless orchestra, the Festival's six annual programs have so far been noted more for purity than for pungency. But last week the Berkshire Festival produced an unusually big and tangy lump of salt. A brown, bosomy, 28-year-old Negro soprano named Dorothy Maynor, who went to Stockbridge to hear the music, ended...
...London Times Literary Supplement on the works of Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. This summer, bald, easygoing Author Wodehouse received an honorary D. Litt. from Oxford, drew plaudits for his style (TIME, July 10). Though many a lesser humorist has crept up behind the Wodehouse technique, tried to sprinkle salt on its tail, only the Old Master himself can really catch it. He does it by rewriting everything at least three times, concentrating and sharpening his effervescent prolixity. Thus revised, markedly improved since its serialization in the Satevepost last spring, is Uncle Fred in the Springtime...
...crop island, St. Croix was hard hit when the bottom fell out of the raw sugar market and Crucians could no longer buy corn meal and salt fish to keep their fungee pots going. But relief cards, at first ignored as a white man's joke, soon brought an unprecedented prosperity. The Negroes, given canned goods, traded them for rations they liked better, for bright flimsy dresses, dime-store jewelry, tobacco...
...headquarters of Press Wireless, surrounded by the barren salt marshes off Baldwin, Long Island, gathered engineers of Newark's publicity-wise Station WOR, good-natured Curator Clyde Fisher of Manhattan's Hayden Planetarium, newshawks, photographers, announcers standing by to tell all. Before sending their signal, the engineers spent forty-five minutes twirling the knobs of 40 short-wave receivers, trying to catch a signal from Mars, where the highest form of life is generally believed to be some low form of vegetation, possibly resembling moss. Result: a potpourri of short-wave noises, most of them promptly identified...