Word: bath
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...remarks: "At home Jean ties father's cravat, and in Parliament he tries to cut his throat." Jean's double job is too much for him: Count Mariassy does not mind being called "a political ventriloquist" in public, but he hates having his beer warm and his bath cold. Soon Count Mariassy's Conservatives are swept out; Jean is the coming man. At this point Elissa Landi's hatred of the upstart valet turns out not to be hatred after...
...automobile shows which will open at the end of October, Manhattan's first big all-trailer show appeared last week in Manhattan's ugly old brownstone 71st Regiment Armory. Twenty-four trailers, from a one-wheel duck hunter's camp to de luxe three-wheelers with bath, were parked on the Armory floor; outside, too big to trundle through the Armory's great doors, stood a shingle-roofed, imitation brick house on wheels. For seven days at the rate of about 100 an hour some 10,000 trailer-minded people leisurely examined the "future American home...
...Papoose at $295. Sleeping four the 1,250-lb. two-wheeler has stove, heater, icebox and running water. Top price was $1,580 for the generator-equipped Martin EckO with electric refrigeration, ice cubes, shower, hot and cold running water. Refinements in some 1937 trailers include: chromium-plated bath tubs; porcelain vapor stoves; writing desks; radios; roomy wardrobes; fireplaces. But a trailer is still a trailer, confined by restrictions of various states to a maximum length of about 22 ft., width and height around 7 ft. A "two-room cottage" and a "five-room efficiency" trailer are both bound...
...iron lung" (TIME. June 14). This week, as cinema photographers record the scene, young Snite expects to change over to the new torso respirator. If all goes well, he will be able for the first time in a year to sit propped up in bed, to have a tub bath...
...Eustace Tilley this week, on the eve of his departure from the city-his 'maiden' departure, as he pointed out. The elegant old gentleman was found in his suite at the Plaza, his portmanteau packed, his mourning doves wrapped in clotted swiss, his head in a sitz bath for a last shampoo. Everywhere, scattered about the place, were grim reminders of his genteel background: a cold bottle of Tavel on the lowboy, a spray of pinks in a cut-glass bowl, an album held with a silver clasp, and his social-security card copied in needlepoint and framed...