Word: brew
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Last week royal favor descended once more upon the potent brewers of Burton-on-Trent when Edward of Wales flew down from London, visited the brewhouse, mixed for himself a special vat of extra strong mash to be known as ''Prince's Brew." Waiting at the flying field to greet him was the Chairman of the Company, Colonel the Right Honorable John Gret-ton. Conservative M. P. for the Burton Division of Staffordshire. Waving proudly over the old brewery was a great banner lettered GOOD HEALTH TO OUR PRINCE. Edward of Wales attended a special luncheon after which he sampled...
Damn! The other night Newspaperman James Hoeck, until recently of Shanghai, Canton, Peking; Richard Kerley, until recently of Memphis, and F. von Falkenberg, until recently of Palm Beach, Pensacola, Tallahassee-all sitting in the back room of a heimgemacht establishment joyfully guzzling brew, discussing Einstein, Nietzsche, Women, Words, TIME...
...cast a blot on the 'scutcheon of that worthy by corrupting his honored name into "ale taster." But testing was his office; tasting may have been his recreation. The ale tester was supposed to array himself in leathern breeches and proceed to examine the village supply of home brew as produced. This he did by pouring a small quantity of the precious fluid upon an oaken stool, and seating himself there on-or therein. After contemplating the surrounding scenery for a fixed period he would attempt to rise. If the oaken seat adhered to the leathern seat...
Some years ago the Union of South Africa forbade laying on of the kiboko by private individuals; but this law, like U. S. Prohibition statutes, has suffered practical modification. Just as home brew may be brewed in comparative security throughout the U. S., so a white South Africander may kiboko his refractory blacks providing the kibokee is first stretched on the ground and covered with a blanket to protect him from embarrassing welts and cuts with which he might run to the District Commissioner...
...being shoveled back into the furnace to be remelted with the rest of the slag. Yet, though the steel-worker dodges many a flying spark, many a molten stream, the liquid steel does not ordinarily waste itself on the pit floor. When steel-cooks know their business, the brew from the kettle furnace pours not into the pit, but into a many-tonned ladle. Filled to its brim and slobbering over, the ladle is moved along over a train of flatcars in which ingot-molds stand up some seven feet from the car-floors. From mold to mold the ladle...