Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 8, 2025
You come unexpectedly upon truck-loads of tanned youngsters, whose features, despite flannel shirts and campaign hats, summon up memories of Harvard Square and the Yale Yard, of campuses at Berkeley and Ithaca.
Truck-loads of them stood at every station. The air was scented by them. Children were pelting one another with them; and here and there, where the orchards had been cleared and the trees stripped, flocks of geese were searching for those scattered among the tufts of grass. The roses were in blossom, and the chrysanthemums were in their first glory.
There were scores of these tunnels, some of which had been exhausted and abandoned, while the ore was being taken out of others by truck-loads at a time, the little narrow-gauge tram-lines running from the tunnel-mouths right down into the village.
Trainloads bristling with ragged soldiers passed us open truck-loads of them, carriage tops covered with sleeping men, some were clinging to the steps and to the buffers. Nish station had lost its sleepy air. Every one was energetically doing everything all wrong. The four orderlies and the two Belgian sisters were minus their passports. Some one had taken them away.
As the train went on, he caught sight from the window of immense stores of war German waggons with their military destinations still marked in chalk, painted guns of all calibres, drums of barbed wire, higgledy-piggledy truck-loads of scrap, all sorts of flotsam and jetsam of the great conflict.
If the dear suburban-grown cabbages became depreciated in value, there were truck-loads of fresh-grown country cabbages to make amends for the loss: in this case, the “partial evil” was a far more general good. The food of the metropolis became rapidly improved, especially in the supply of wholesome meat and vegetables.
To supply German ammunition needs, lead and zinc have been taken from the roofs of mosques and door-handles from mosque-gates, and the iron railings along the Champs de Mars at Pera have been carted away for the manufacture of bombs. Not long after eight truck-loads of copper were sent to Germany: these, I imagine, represent the first produce of copper roofs and utensils.
Every working day of the year a long train, extending often in the busiest season to as many as forty truck-loads, steams out of this station to scatter the productions of Bournville over the face of the Earth. Close by the station we turn into the offices, where the fittings and general arrangement convey an air of refined solidity according well with the goods produced.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking