Word: cigaretes
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...first press conference after the AAA decision. President Roosevelt sat back in his chair with chin up, cigaret holder cocked rakishly out of a corner of his mouth, a tight-lipped grin on his face, waiting for unwelcome questions. Every inch of floor space was covered by newshawks waiting with pencils poised. The President's grin widened. There was no news, he announced, except-and he stopped to cast a roguish look over his shoulder at the tousled-headed Democratic National Committee publicity man- except that Charley Michelson needed a haircut...
With his wife and two sons. Dr. Compton lives in Chicago in a big brick house filled with souvenirs of their world tour. He does not know the taste of hard liquor, almost never smokes, always offers a cigaret to women visitors. He plays such a bang-up game of tennis that he sometimes has a hard time finding worthy opponents. Several times a month he puts in an evening of mandolin-playing with three friends. When his graduate students have finished an examination, he likes to dine them and take them to the theatre...
...Ponselle has openly aspired to be the Carmen of the Metropolitan Opera Company. Carmen in the repertoire, sung by any popular singer, means a crowded house, money in the till. Last week for the first time in four years the stage was set for the Bizet opera. Soldiers and cigaret girls filled the square when suddenly a fiery bushy-haired creature appeared on the parapet, tore down the steps, pushed her way to the footlights. Soprano Ponselle's wish had come true...
First impression was to wonder why anyone so flagrantly sexy as her Carmen should trouble to work for a living in a cigaret factory. She sang the Habanera belligerently, as if defying the world. She turned on bewildered Don Jose like a tigress, sidled up to the captain of the guards like an oldtime cinema vamp. The stage scarcely seemed to hold her. Ponselle's voice is naturally sumptuous, but she was too busy ranting to do justice by Bizet's music...
...Brenton Root, 32, contract investigator for a wholesale house, went to a hotel dance with some friends and his pretty wife, Daisy, 30. There the Roots, who had been living apart for six weeks, got into a quarrel because Mrs. Root resented her husband's attentions to a cigaret girl named Lucille Underwood. Daisy Root returned to her home, where she lived with her 4-year-old son. An hour later, pistol in hand, she entered Brenton Root's ome, awakened him, said, "Look at me, darling," shot him dead. To all of this, according to police...