Word: devilled
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...take care of that before the people of Mississippi. I thought, back in 1925, like a great many other people thought, that I'd done very well in a business way. I always had started from nothing and always had wound up poor as the devil. But I did very well for a time. I think I paid over $12,000 in income taxes in 1925, and possibly $10,000 or $11,000 in 1926. I thought I had made about $450,000 and that I would be pretty well fixed for the rest of my life...
Because Dr. Hakim Bakhtyar Rustomji Ratanji, who legally changed his name to Buck Ruxton, strangled his wife and the pretty nursemaid who saw him do it, subsequently dismembered his victims and threw the bloody fragments into a Scottish ravine known as The Devil's Beef tub (TIME, March 23), British Justice last week hanged this murderer in the courtyard of Strangeways Jail, Manchester...
...into an oration, then taking an unceremonious leave. Heiden makes what he can (which is not much) of Hitler's devotion to his niece and her unexplained suicide. Neither satisfactorily solves the secret of Hitler's bachelorhood. Both biographers, without concealing their dislike, try to give the devil his due. Heiden: "Everything that Hitler says in his book about propaganda is masterly. . . . For a few hour? [at a time] he is really a remarkable schoolbook hero: cynical as Frederick the Great, brutal as Napoleon, kindly as the Emperor Joseph." Olden: "If greatness can exist . . . in demagogy, then Hitler...
Surprisingly few Civil War stories are included. One of them tells of Stonewall Jackson spying a straggler up a tree. " 'What the devil are you doing up a persimmon tree?' asked the General. 'Eatin' 'simmons, Gen'l, the private replied. 'What, eating persimmons in July!' exclaimed Stonewall. 'Why, man, don't you know they'll draw your stomach into a hard knot?' 'Waal, Gen'l, I figgered on that. I 'lowed to swink up my belly to fit my rations...
...such is the quest for new titles to old dishes. And the tripe served up this time needs a new name, indeed. A lot of vacuous material is handled in a devil-may-care fashion, but the effect usually falls short of amusing. A soapy soap heiress (Bette) falls in love with a surly reporter (George Brent). She proposes to him in an up-side-down machine in an amusement park (where Bette is escaping from her normal position), in a manner so abrupt as to be calculated to take George's and your breath. The female proposal is standby...