Word: beds
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Paso, Tex. a physician boarded the train, ordered Nominee Landon to bed to save his throat for important speeches. Thereafter members of his party pinch hit before disappointed station crowds along the way, explaining that the Nominee was busy and "very tired." After a day of that. Alf Landon allowed them to reveal the real reason for his nonappearance...
...Vagabond bounds out of bed at eight, slips over an ice-cold floor on ice-cold feet to his open window and bangs it shut. a front clings to his whiskers as he hacks at them desperately with an ice-cold razor. A nick under his chin bleeds and makes a smear on the collar of his newly-laundered best pink shirt. But the dauntless Vagabond is out of his Attic by eight-thirty and down to the Dining Room to breakfast...
Businessmen who went to bed that night soothed by the friendly declaration were startled next day when in Detroit, where Nominee Landon had plumped for free enterprise two days before, Nominee Roosevelt reverted to more normal New Deal tones, declared that "The automobile industry and every other industry still need great improvements in their relationships to their employes. . . . Manufacturers . . . must, by planning, do far more than they have done to date to increase the yearly earnings of those who work for them...
...their rectitude, the frightened girl kept her growing secret, said nothing. Good Friday her labor began. The astounding fortitude of girls "in trouble'' sustained her, stifled her groans, betrayed her labor to her parents by not so much as a grimace. After her parents went to bed, she went to the bathroom. There, alone and without sound, crouching in a tormented daze, she bore her son. She thought, she swore in court last week, that he was born dead. After a rest the girl gathered her infant in her arms, mounted to the tenement roof. She walked...
...mother being courted by a roue, your august father succumbing to the soft inpeachments of an ogling actress, your elder sister flinging herself at a married artist, and your younger brother making love to a woman who enters and exits over the garden wall, you doubtless would retire to bed in the evening, very willing to "call it a day." Dodie Smith has conceived of just such a situation and she has fittingly dubbed her play "Call It A Day." After the delightful performance of the Theatre Guild cast last night we feel compelled to mock again, and without exaggeration...