Word: babbitts
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...SAVINGS STAMPS will be offered for soap-product coupons by B. T. Babbitt, Inc. (Bab-O, Glim, Red Devil Lye). Housewives will receive coupons in 5?, 10? and 15? denominations attached to products, must mail them in exchange for 25? savings stamps...
...private labels become that some national-brand makers turn out both, in the hope of lowering overall production costs and gaining a more favorable reception for the manufacturer's name-brand products. In many cases the quality is exactly the same, but the price is lower. B. T. Babbitt, cleaning-products maker, markets its Glim liquid detergent to some distributors to retail for 69? per 22-oz. bottle. It also supplies them with the identical product under the Sparkle label to retail for 49?. But in many a private brand, the lower price reflects not only the dropping...
...Soraya, King Farouk, Pierre Laval; of a heart attack; in Rome. "There's a little trattoria on the Via della Scrofa where you get the best fettuccine in the world," says Sinclair Lewis Socialite Lucille McKelvey, but the remark passes several noodle-lengths over the head of George Babbitt, who answers: "Oh, I-yes. That must be nice to try that...
...ranging from an eleven-line snapshot of Mrs. Bridge finding her small son staring meditatively at the dressmaker's dummy of her figure (thereafter, she hides it in the attic) to a seven-page description of a country-club dinner that is as savagely tedious as anything in Babbitt. There are sharply accurate glimpses of a far-from-adult grownup trying to cope with adolescents, of a dark, feminine hatred toward the machine. There is, above all, the nameless fear that somehow life itself is a mysterious machine that is not running as well as it should...
...tempted, but resisted: "After wading along with a kind of fascinated horror through 140,000 words, most readers will probably become bored . . . at times downright sickened . . ." The New York World Telegram's Leslie Hanscom fumed that "there were moments . . . when my whole instinct was to land a Babbitt's righteous punch on the super-civilized nose of the author . . . The novel has a tone which says that, if you cannot swallow its exquisitely distilled sewage with a good appetite, then you'd better go back where you belong and read Elbert Hubbard's Scrapbook...