Word: horning
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...members of the 1940 Board who will take over the six Executive Board positions today are as follows: Blair Clark, of Princeton New Jersey, will be President; B. Sheffield West, of Minneapolis, Minnesota, Managing Editor; John H. Sisson, of Brookline, Business Manager; Garfield H. Horn, of Long Beach, California, Editorial Chairman; Charles N. Pollak II, of Bronxville, New York, Executive Editor, and Julian E. Agoos, of Brookline, Photographic Chairman. They will serve until February...
Pompous Frank Gannett of Rochester, N. Y. publishes a string of dull and respectable newspapers. New Dealer Harold L. Ickes throws the most accomplished tantrums in Washington. Famed Biologist Raymond Pearl of Johns Hopkins, who likes to drink good beer and play the French horn, makes his views more articulate than most scientists. Last week these three had their say on the question "Do We Have A Free Press...
They could not speak out, but last week several retired officers did so in a symposium published by the United States News. Gruffest was Major General George Van Horn Moseley, who last September directed a blast at the New Deal when he retired. Last week he wrote: "Much of our present weakness is in the fear and hysteria being engendered among the American people for ... political purpose. ... A nation so scared and so burdened financially is not in a condition to lick anybody. And then, who in hell are we afraid of? With Japan absorbed . . . with the balance of power...
Powder River rises in central Wyoming, fed by the snows of the Big Horn Mountains. North it flows, joined by Salt Creek, Dugout Creek, Pumpkin Creek, Wild Horse Creek and Crazy Woman Creek. Bitterly alkaline, mushy with quicksand, flanked for 100 miles by badlands, Powder River is nothing compared with such rushing beauties as the Feather, the Snake, the Salmon...
...celebrates, The Great Waltz should charm most cinemaddicts, give opponents of swing their happiest moments of the season. Good sequence: Strauss, driving through the outskirts of his city at dawn, fusing the song of a bird, the notes of a shepherd's flute, the salute of a carriage horn into Tales from the Vienna Woods...