Word: drunks
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...feet four), prodigiously dressed (in black suit, broad black hat and flowing black Windsor tie), a prodigious writer, talker, fighter and drinker, Pitchfork Smith worshipped at the shrine of one man and one man only: William Cowper Brann (the Iconoclast). Once, on Brann's birthday, his disciple got drunk, visited his grave at Waco, and sat there all night communing with the soul of his friend, for every drink he took himself pouring an equal amount of whiskey...
Such was the probable basis of last week's titanic paper war. At reports of far-flung air battles engaging several hundred planes, the skeptical New York Herald Tribune cocked an editorial eyebrow, suggested that the Japanese had drunk too much native sorghum whisky and mistook Lake Bor bustards for Soviet bombers. The only alternative conclusions were: "Either the units of the Japanese Kwantung Army . . . have developed a talent for fiction ... or they are engaged in an undeclared war with the Soviet Union on a scale that deserves a more sophisticated audience than the local nomads and their herds...
...anybody wants to drink liquor without getting drunk, Dr. Ira Albert Manville of the University of Oregon Medical School thinks he can tell him how. Recommended by him last week was a generous portion of apple juice along with the drinks. Dr. Manville administered enough alcohol to one dog to cause stupor and death, the same amount accompanied by apple juice to another dog. The second dog lost a certain amount of muscular coordination, but remained in such good shape that he did not even fall asleep...
...Astor, M. P., who abominates smoking & drinking, called smoking "almost a national crime." Said a fellow member: "Is this not rather strange talk coming from a daughter of Virginia?" Retorted Lady Astor: "I remember the Bishop of Virginia telling me 30 years ago he would sooner see his daughter drunk than smoking a cigarette...
When Walt Mason was 48 he had good reason to fear his fate. Small-town newsman with roving feet, he had drunk his way through many a sheet when he went to William Allen White, swore to work hard, not get tight. Pressing grindstone to his nose, he wrote a batch of rhyming prose. Walt Mason's doggerel, couched in slang, hit the syndicates with a bang; rich, respected, worth his salt grew reformed Booze-hoister Walt...