Word: fatted
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Between Columnists James Westbrook Pegler and Heywood Campbell Broun there had long existed a somewhat strained out-of-print friendship. In print, "Old Peg," ever scornful of anything that looks like uplift, called his friend "old Bleeding Heart Broun," "the fat Mahatma." Two months ago, Columnist Pegler jabbed a particularly tender spot. American Newspaper Guild President Broun was operating a scab shop, he wrote, because the Connecticut Nutmeg, of which Broun is one-tenth owner-editor, had hired a non-union reporter. Next week, from his regular page in the New Republic, President Broun heatedly denied he had anything...
...carried clubs for 300 of the 600 holes), his personal physician, Dr. Charles B. Alexander (who fed him orange juice and water), his financial backer, rich Air Conditioner Reuben Trane (who had 3,000 autographed golf balls handed out en route advertising his business), his good-natured better, fat Fred Tuerk-all made merry on Broadway, Super Marathoner Ferebee went to bed, put a sign on his door: "Don't open until Christmas...
Under the fighting slogan, "Be Wary of Leary," he promised to take care of his wife and family first, his relatives second, and the public last. He refused to affiliate himself with any sort of club, even the Fat Men's Club...
Smith had a fat majority of votes, the widest margin of all his six races for the Senate. In the textile towns, millworkers had poured out to vote for Governor Johnston, aroused by President Roosevelt's promise of a better deal for labor. But many mill hands and most propertied people and almost all the cotton growers -sharecroppers as well as landlords- trooped to the polls to vote for Cotton Ed, the farmers' friend...
...getting worried, since his chances look so promising. "I've found out all these politicians are members of every kind of club," he said, "so I've announced that I am not and never will be a member of the Elks, the Eagles, the Red-Jackets, or the Fat Men's Club. Now I'm sure to get licked...