Word: canings
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...barrels in which they have secreted themselves, the Marx Brothers undertake to distress the other passengers. Harpo, on a kiddy-car, slides about the deck with evil looks for all. He captures and becomes the friend of a frog, which he keeps in his hat. He carries a cane which has a horn at one end, for no reason. Chased by the mate, he dives behind the curtain of a Punch & Judy show and pokes his shaggy head out in expressions of derision and despair. Groucho Marx makes friends with a gangster, throws a revolver into a pail of water...
Last week Committeeman Mack, 73, announced that he would soon retire. Long had his square, bushy-browed face, his well-groomed figure, his cane been familiar at Democratic councils. His newspaper had thrived, been sold in 1929 to Scripps-Howard for a reported $6,000,000. He wanted to retire to his home on Buffalo's fashionable Delaware Avenue. He announced his support of Oliver Cabana Jr. as his successor in the Democratic leadership of Erie County. He ex plained...
...eyes-&-ears" tour sprang, as he well knew, not from any major development within the Philippines themselves but from a sudden and significant shift of economic and political opinion when the U. S. Rocky Mountain beet producers two years ago began to complain that duty-free Filipino cane sugar was depressing their industry. Louisiana cane-growers felt the same way. Concerns with $800,000,000 invested in Cuban sugar production lined up with them against the Philippines. From the North-west came the cry of dairymen that Filipino coconut oil was competing unfairly with their farm products. From the South...
...favorite was Nedda Guy, a bay filly owned by W. H. Cane's Good Time Farm, on whose three-corner, one-mile track the three heats of the Hambletonian were run after two postponements for bad weather. If anything happened to Nedda Guy, there was Keno-a big bay colt owned by John M. Berry of Rome, Ga. A third choice, 5-to-1 in the auction pool just before the horses skimmed onto the track for the first heat, was William M. Wright's bay, Calumet Butler. William M. Wright was at his home in Lexington...
...well after 7 o'clock when Secretary Stimson emerged, the muscles of his nose tightened by worry. Newsmen trailed him out of the lobby and down the steps to the street between the White House and the State Department. No, no, no, nothing to say. He twirled his cane nervously. "Are you still optimistic?" asked a pert newshawk. The Secretary stopped, turned, answered: "Yes, I am. If anything happens to the President's plan, it would be a crime." Then he crossed the street, neatly dodging a delivery truck...