Word: eyeful
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...week's biggest winner. Louis Ribiere. 32, a small coal-&-wood merchant of Avignon. At dawn he was irritably reaching for his breakfast coffee in an Avignon bistro when the barman pushed him a copy of the morning paper. Ribiere's eye fell on the news that his ticket had won the 5,000,000 franc ($323,000) Grand Prize. He whirled, leaped into the air, vanished out the door, homeward bound to check his ticket number. It checked. He ran back through Avignon's narrow streets to the building where his mother is a janitress. Yipping...
...General Warren Irving Glover, Mrs. Dwight Whitney Morrow. Intelligent, they make certain, when they hire servants, that the help are healthy. But they cannot be sure with whom their employes run around on off days. This became shockingly evident when Dr. John Hawkins Irwin, Englewood health director, traced the eye infections and subsequent blindness of several Englewood children to gonorrhea in their nursemaids. So Englewood burghers had the Common Council pass an ordinance which went into effect this week. Like a similar ordinance of Newark (only other of its kind which Englewood knows of), it requires that every domestic servant...
...Harry Ford Sinclair for jury-shadowing. Mr. Day picked up one of the seven telephones on his desk and listened to Mr. Porter's suggestion that National Distillers, aside from the dynamite of Repeal, was a pretty good thing at around $16 per share. Mr. Day cocked an eye at the ebony elephant on his desk. Mr. Porter needed to raise money for expansion. Mr. Day took 20,000 shares for his clients...
...found this year for the first time that pickling made their hands burn. Solemnly last week the Journal hazarded various opinions on the malady's cause, recommended thorough hand-washing after pickling, use of an alcohol & menthol solution to alleviate the smarting. Then the Journal cocked an eye, suggested that the condition might appropriately be named "pepper picklers' paresthesia...
...gold. I gaze until my mind is naught But wonderful and wordless thought! Till, suddenly, surpassing wit, Spontaneous meadows spring in it; And I am but a glass between Un-walked in meadows, gold and green. The Author's most famed productions have never met the public eye, are fitter for private ears. Prolific parent of a Rabelaisian brood of limericks, bans mots, parodies, a troop of outrageous, robustious characters of fancy, Oliver St. John Gogarty is a doctor by trade (throat specialist). Now an Irish Senator, he was a bitter enemy of the Republicans, once faced a firing...