Word: cincinnatus
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...away from the presidency," he had said. He was hoping the farmers from his section of the land would insist upon the nomination coming to him. He thought he could win the trust of all the other kinds of men whose influence counted. Men had called him another Cincinnatus. He let his friends play up the farm idea and prepared to be called from the plow. . . . But he answered curtly the reporters who questioned him. Once, at the Kansas City railroad station, he gave a Hearst newshawk an ungentle shove and said: "You newspaper men will get along better with...
Through Kansas City, early in the week, passed a more cheerful figure than either the Beaver Man or the Modern Cincinnatus. This one, swart, short, mustachioed, had played a different game from theirs, a waiting game. Redskin ancestors on his grandmother's side had doubtless played the same game often. Out hunting with other braves, a good plan had been to let the others stalk, and perhaps frighten, the deer, which then would come along the runway where an artful man sat ready. The Indian-blooded Senator from Kansas had seen the waiting game work well on race tracks...
Eight years ago Mr. Lowden had his job as able, wartime Governor of Illinois to finish, to seem wholly preoccupied with. Now, as a humble Cincinnatus, he bides on his Sinnissippi Farm at Oregon, Ill., refusing to be called from the plow until the psychopolitical moment. With much honk and ceremony, a large motorcade of his admirers drew up at Sinnissippi last month. Mr. Lowden had known in advance that they were coming, but when he strode out on the porch in riding boots, his greeting to them was an indefinite gesture. Instead of a destination, he gave them...
Statements. Less analytical people confined themselves to flat statements. Onetime-Governor Edward C. Stokes of New Jersey was first into print with the classical ". . . as Cincinnatus was called from the plow...
...sale in 1923 of his Melody Farm, $5,000,000 estate of forests, fountains, lakes, drives and gardens, near the Lake Michigan shore north of Chicago. Truculently honest, weary of commercial strife, he now spends most of his time rusticating in California. Last week however he was, like another Cincinnatus called from his farm, in Chicago alongside his nephews Philip D. Ill and Lester in their tribulations with Armour Grain...