Word: hen
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...world-shaking meeting began, UNO seemed oddly like a setting hen with a nest in a threshing machine. It had a place out of the rain, a good food supply and a spot to brood on its clutch of world problems. But UNO seemed almost as preoccupied with keeping its beak out of the big city's machinery as in global meditation...
...Manhattan's Waldorf-Astoria, 2,000 men & women in evening dress ate their way through Fumet of Gumbo Chervil, Native Guinea Hen, Bombe Glacé Britannia, and sat back to hear the Great Debater. Winston Churchill had made a Fulton (Mo.) profession of his democratic faith. Joseph Stalin had written the answer that joined the issue between two social philosophies more directly and authoritatively than it had ever been joined before...
...Wanted: Hen's Teeth. But bargains in wild animals were as scarce as hen's teeth. War and inflation had shot animal prices sky high. In Burma, the war had killed off many elephants. The remainder were being used for reconstruction. In India, wealthy anti-British natives had been investing in elephants rather than war bonds, had driven elephant prices up to $2,250. Expenses of transportation and the 15% import duty on animals would bring the cost to the dealer up to $5,000 in New York. Prewar price to zoos: $2,000 to $3,000, f.o.b...
Bats in the Bedroom. Author MacDonald lists some of the things she never got used to: the hen; the gasoline lantern; the outhouse at night; no radio; no telephone; "bats hanging upside down in the cellar, flying in the open bedroom windows . . . making my skin undulate in horror"; dropping-boards and chicken lice; wet, cold, soggily miserable winter, "and spring so warm, so lush and fragrant that I wanted to roll on my back and whinny...
...Also Sheet Music and Song Books." "How many reeds in a Payson and Clarke [organ]?" Jess asked him. "Forty-eight, Brother Birdwell," replied Professor Quigley, "not counting the tuba mirabilis. . . . Those reeds duplicate the human throat. They got timbre," he added ("landing on the French word the way a hen lands on the water"). "How many stops?" asked Jess. "Eight," said the professor. "And that vox humana! . . . You can hear the voice of your lost child in it. Did you ever lose a child, Brother Birdwell?" "No," said Jess. "[Then] you can hear the voice of your old mother calling...