In the south, the Red Army abandoned Krasnodar and all of the Kuban. Nazi forces plunged south into the Caucasian highlands and east to Stalingrad.

No sign was over his door; in fact—as with old banks and mercantile houses—advertising in any shape was scorned, and it would have been felt as beneath his dignity to paint up, for the benefit of strangers, the name of an establishment whose trade came solely by connection based on personal respect.

It is probable that the utmost sugescent power of any of these causes, or all of them combined, in ordinary respiration is not sufficient to raise a column of blood of a single inch […]

He made his hawke to fly, With hogeous showte and cry.