Word: forlorned
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Franklin Roosevelt passed two anniversaries last week. Twenty years ago, the Democratic Party notified him of his nomination for Vice President (with forlorn Jim Cox). Eight years ago, in the library at Hyde Park house, he first met and charmed Henry Agard Wallace, who lived to be Mr. Roosevelt's Secretary of Agriculture and 1940 choice for the Vice-Presidency. If the President remembered the first anniversary, he gave no sign of it. Henry Wallace, again with his friend and chief at Hyde Park, had to remind him of the second one. "That's right!" Mr. Roosevelt exclaimed...
...Gravelines water line to be flooded and held by French troops. Thus the port of Dunkirk was held open. When it was found impossible for the Armies of the north to reopen their communications through Amiens with the main French Armies, only one choice remained. It seemed, indeed, a forlorn hope. The Belgian and French Armies were almost surrounded. Their sole line of retreat was to a single port and its neighboring beaches. They were pressed on every side by heavy attacks and were far outnumbered...
...striding up and down in front of the fireplace, glowing pipe in hand. His somewhat forlorn frame was suitably encased in baggy tweeds. There was a brandy-snifter on the mantel-piece with a thin film of amber curving along the bottom. Vag decided that he cut a pretty smooth figure in front of the fire, especially when the tiny yellow flames spurted and gave his fact a ruddy gleam easily mistaken, he thought, for the flush of ambition of a young man about to graduate from Harvard. "But what do you want to be." came the quiet voice from...
...ever get any more, it will be because we make it or win it." He fought the sentimentality and venality of the Gilded Age, wrote his revolutionary Folkways (1906) to show the determining effect of social customs on conduct. "His conviction," says Gabriel, "was that the forlorn and probably futile hope of democracy was that the men who profess it should understand what they are doing...
...striding up and down in front of the fireplace, glowing pipe in hand. His somewhat forlorn frame was suitably encased in baggy tweeds. There was a brandy-snifter on the mantelpiece with a thin film of amber curving along the bottom. Vag decided that he cut a pretty smooth figure in front of the fire, especially when the tiny yellow flames spurted and gave his face a ruddy gleam easily mistaken, he thought, for the flush of ambition of a young man about to graduate from Harvard. "But what do you want to be?" came the quiet voice from...