Word: fingered
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Prices. "Steel men generally must realize that they can ill afford to sell their products even at current prices after they have studied the second quarter earnings." Thus did President Grace, after last week's Bethlehem meeting, put his finger on the industry's sore spot: prices. He said "even at current prices"' because since President Farrell of U. S. Steel told his colleagues two months ago that it was "immoral" to cut steel prices as they were doing, there has been a perceptible rising and firming of prices. Bars, shapes and plates, for example, were last...
...Helene Madison polishes her finger nails bright red, wears a red silk bathing suit and a red cap, plans to study art next winter in Seattle, where she lives...
...most enduring monument to the idealism, insight and organizing genius of its founder." Honorary vice president of the society, she listened eagerly at its meetings, let herself be photographed with William Quinn, Chief of San Francisco police. Burly Chief Quinn looked down at Mother Clark as she cocked a finger at him and said: "I hear the young people nowadays are quite a problem. . . . You should bring in the parents, have them take their child home and punish him. . . . There were gangsters in my day, too, but their fathers took them home and spanked them. The gangsters...
Available for conjecture is the Prohibition Bureau's annual report of last year which estimated that of the total calculated production of 894.986.000 Ib. of corn sugar in 1929, it was impossible to account legally for 534 million lb. In 1930 the eccentric finger of the law pointed to two companies, 43 individuals, accused them of participating in conspiracies to violate the Prohibition law. The cases against the others are still pending. Prominent will be that of Fleischmann Co. whose yeast is an ingredient of many a mug of beer...
...that the rain was slacking. "All right, Harold; let's go," he had said, as he might have suggested "Let's go to the movies." To a small group of drenched spectators, "Somebody want to crank me up?" The light of photographers' flares and the stabbing finger of a revolving beacon picked out the white Lockheed at the head of the runway for a moment. Then a roar from the supercharged Wasp motor, a streak down the field, and the Winnie Mae's navigating lights were blinking a "goodbye" from the North...