Word: faces
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1930-1939
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...ordered sit-downers to evacuate Flint's two Fisher body plants.± but also commanded strikers, leaders and sympathizers to cease all picketing and demonstration around G. M. plants throughout Michigan. With a roar the embattled unionists flung the judge's order back in his round, bespectacled face. Sheriff Thomas Wolcott read it to the sit-downers amid contemptuous silence, departed with a grin. The grim, bearded sit-downers telegraphed to Governor Frank Murphy their determination to die before obeying it. Thousands of outside sympathizers poured into Flint, joined the strikers' militant, red-bereted Women...
...Lewis' gains were not very material, but they were impressive enough to discountenance any suggestions of face-saving. For the present, we can thank God and Governor Murphy. As for the future, the new technique and the measurable success attending it use should cause the public to cast a suspicious eye on the budding of further strike developments...
...annual University ski face, scheduled o he held one Sherbourne Trail tomorrow morning, has been in definitely postponed, if was announced by Manager Preston last night...
...keep Britain's colossal rush-Rearmament program (TIME, March 30 et seq.) on schedule is Sir Thomas' awful responsibility and last week some M.P.'s hurled in his face that "Rearmament is two years behind!" A great churchman, Sir Thomas reprovingly reminded everyone that Britain is firm in her adherence to the principles of Christ. There were some gasps when Sir Thomas went so far as to say, "Rearmament is not the Government's objective!" but he got away with it. Finally he admitted to the House with suave authority that the British Rearmament program...
Goggled against the stinging snow and wind that burn your face, you sit tense in a narrow cockpit, legs braced, toes hooked under a crossbar. The tiller jerks and trembles in your hands, intensifying your sensation of speed. A few inches beneath you is the ice, now white and granular, now slick as black glass, racing by to the singing of the wind in your rigging and the crisp cutting sound of the sharp-bladed runners. You put your nose down into your muffler to catch a warm breath-the wind has you gasping and your cheeks feel shaved...