Word: astral
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About the time Communist Karl Marx finished writing Das Kapital, Capitalist Charles Pratt began selling "Pratt's Astral Oil." A high-grade lamp fuel, refined in Brooklyn from Pennsylvania petroleum, it became world-famed. Until Edison made his improvement, no one could read the Communist Manifesto, or anything else, under a mellower light. Onetime grocery clerk Pratt eventually joined up in Standard Oil with onetime bookkeeper Rockefeller. When he died in 1891, Pratt was Brooklyn's richest citizen, a solid, sharp-faced, goateed, philanthropic Baptist. To his six sons and two daughters he left an 800-acre estate...
...rocket's nose are instruments to record the composition of the upper atmosphere, its temperature, pressure and density. Later the Corporal may report on cosmic ray and meteoric conditions, and possibly provide new spectroscopic photographs of astral phenomena unimpeded by the optical distortion of the lower atmosphere. Heretofore the best information on the upper air has been supplied by radio-equipped weather balloons which level off some 20 miles below the Corporal's recorded ceiling...
...days, official Washington attempted to play down the conference. At his press conference, Secretary Stimson twinkled to reporters: "You thought you saw the President [at the Pentagon] when you only saw his astral body." Yet the rankest cub reporter knew that something big was cooking, and the rumors began, to fly. And not all the rumors were wild: some of the information came from unquestionably well-informed-although unnamed-sources. The hottest report: Heinrich Himmler had offered to surrender unconditionally to the U.S. and Great Britain...
Marshall Field III, publisher of Chicago's Sun and of New York's PM, neared his 50th birthday and the last installment of his inheritance from his storekeeping millionaire grandfather. Five installments (at 25, 30, 35, 40, 45) have brought him $93 million. The astral fourth will be nearly $75 million...
Novice Eshleman, an astral gleam in his eye, took off for what he said (in a letter to the press) would be Mars, 51,813,800 miles away.* Near Philadelphia he alighted briefly to take on 55 gallons (which, he later explained, was to carry him beyond gravitational pull, whence he could glide the rest of the way). He took off again, headed north over a fog-blanketed Atlantic. By the time Owner Walz had raised the alarm for his $2,600, uninsured monoplane, Cheston Lee Eshleman was skittering hither & yon, munching chocolate, trying to find a hole...