Word: flints
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Fortnight ago in Syracuse, N. Y., a postal clerk came upon a parcel addressed to "Comrade Chancellor Charles Flint, Syracuse University." When the parcel gave off a muffled tick, the clerk turned white as a miller, rushed the parcel to the postmaster. The postmaster sent for the police. The police sent for a Department of Justice expert on infernal machines. The expert dunked the parcel in a pail of water, prodded it with a long pole, gingerly took it apart. Disclosed was an arrangement of cardboard tubes, cotton wadding, piano wire, an alarm clock works and some sort of granulated...
...reply referring the Egyptians to the speech on Egypt of his predecessor as Foreign Secretary, Sir Samuel Hoare, which so inflamed Egyptian passions that turbulence in Cairo has been rising ever since. The speech contained some appeasing phrases, but its gist was that the British Government are set like flint against the aspirations of Egyptian Nationalism. After Mr. Eden's message to Cairo last week, rioting increased to such an extent that it got out of the control of the British Chief of Egyptian Police, and required for the first time the intervention of Egyptian Army units in steel...
...also her 22nd wedding anniversary. But none of these pleasant milestones was the cause of the Jacobs' rejoicing. What had happened was that in far-off Manhattan the judges of the Bodd, Mead-Pictorial Review 1935 novel contest had awarded their $10,000 prize to one Margaret Flint. And Margaret Flint was Mrs. Lester Warner Jacobs' maiden name...
Quickly the Jacobs family forgathered, jubilantly celebrated Christmas, birthday, anniversary, then packed their heroine off to Manhattan and glory. At her publishers' tea there Author Margaret Flint, swelling with pleased pride and a corsage of tea-roses, looked more than ever like Mrs. Jacobs of Bay St. Louis. One of her sponsors, in helpful vein, asked if she felt like a butterfly on a pin. "Rather a weighty butterfly," smiled 200-lb. Margaret Flint Jacobs. With five of her six children at home and a husband whose toll-bridge had been rendered bankrupt by Huey Long's free...
Last week's was not Author Flint's first literary prize. As a young newshen on the Old Town, Me., Enterprise, she had won a $12 prize for a piece on the operation and care of sewing machines. The article, though, was not run. After that she married a fellow-graduate of the University of Maine and went South to be a mother, cook, seamstress, smalltown housewife. But she never got over her ambition to be a writer as well. She ground out short stories. They were all rejected. In late-at-night, snatched moments over four years...