Word: clams
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...Detroit is one of the best novels that has been written on an automobile factory, but it gives small comfort to the latter school of thought. The story of an ex-lumberjack who hates the conveyer belt and dreams of going into the clam-digging business, it is the work of a University of Michigan graduate, now 44, who received "a sort of scholarship" in a large Detroit factory (presumably Ford's), fled to Southern California "to get away from the roar and thunder of the automatics in the factory and the climbing production figures on the big chart...
Author Smitter tells a story strongly reminiscent of Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men. Says Big Russ, trying to entice his little pal Bennie (the narrator) to the woods and clam beds: "There'd be the smell of new clover hay and cornflowers in the air and by'n'by the fire would get low and go out and you'd see the fireflies . . . and way off somewhere -t'hell 'n' gone over the river-you'd hear a cowbell...
Enjoined to silence about the precise discussions, White House mouthpieces assiduously cultivated the impression that Mr. Ford had heard Chairman Eccles read off a prepared apologia for the spending spurt, had said little about it, had in general been about as talkative as a clam. Whatever he said to the President, canny Mr. Ford spoke his mind to Correspondents Prevost and Hayden on the way to New York. On his mind, if not on his tongue at the White House, were these appraisals of Franklin Roosevelt and of Roosevelt policy...
Around Boothbay harbor and Wiscasset last week wormdiggers were working night and day to meet the demand of an unusually good fishing season. At low tide the diggers wade around in knee-deep mud, combing wrigglers to the surface with long-tined clam rakes. A lucky day's haul is 1,000 worms but the average is 500 or less, paid for by worm dealers at the rate of 75? per hundred. In night digging the men wear dazzling electric spot lights on their foreheads, and have a slightly greater advantage over the quarry, whose custom is to bask...
...attitude of His Majesty's Government, and of a few correspondents who said they would have to stay anyhow, apparently condemned the Duke of Windsor to remain through the holidays clam mouthed and encircled by a whole corps of journalistic clamdiggers...