Word: horned
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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There was a time when horns supposed to be those of the fantastic unicorn sold for $12,000 to $150,000 apiece. A powdered bit of genuine unicorn horn was considered the most potent remedy a medieval physician could prescribe. On at least one occasion the tip of a unicorn horn was administered to a dying Pope (TIME, Feb. 25, 1935). Unicorns are described in legends far back into the mists of antiquity. Many men boasted of having seen the creature. All agreed that he was a proud and mighty beast, too wise and fleet to let himself be caught...
When scientific explorations in every land had left no possible dwelling place for the splendid unicorn, he was reluctantly relegated to the limbo of legend. But there were stories that cattle and other animals had been made to grow a single big horn by cutting their scalps and manipulating their horn buds. In 1827 famed Naturalist Georges Cuvier said that this was impossible, since the horn buds were integral parts of the animal's skull, and the frontal part of the skull was divided by a suture where it would be impossible for transplanted horns to grow...
Last week in Scientific Monthly, Biologist William Franklin Dove of the University of Maine showed that Cuvier was wrong. Dr. Dove's own researches had revealed that at birth the horn buds were not attached to the skull but were independent "centres of ossification." Accordingly, he decided to try making a unicorn of a day-old Ayrshire. Flaps of skin containing the horn cores were cut out and the cores were joined in the centre, at the top end of the suture in the bone...
...straight, in fact, it's very winding, and after the fifth depression of the accelerator rubber began to shrick on every curve. "This fellows's a fool," barked the driver of the Chevrolet, "he doesn't know when he's had enough." Suddenly the Ford began a Bedlam of horn-honking. It threw such an unchivalrous and vulgar element into the race that the Chevrolet driver immediately became so vexed that, together with a few bitter remarks, he stuck his arm out the window and rudely motioned for the Ford to pass. And pass he did. But alas...
Clad in a blue topcoat and a black Homburg hat and carrying a horn-rimmed monocle and a gleaming Malacca stick, Captain Cullen sniffed and snorted: "This talk about insolent stewards is just a lot of g- -d hooey and lies. Why, there was not a steward logged [fined] except a couple for getting drunk. And I'd log 'em if there were any reason...