Word: howling
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Coffee, Brazilian coffee, made U. S. businessmen hop and howl like Hottentots last week around Manhattan's big brass Coffee Ring. They hopped on each others toes. They hopped higher on camp stools. When they could neither hop high enough or howl loud enough to make a buyer or seller on the other side of the ring understand, they bent low and plunged for the round brass railing, elbowing each others stomachs, yelling "Seven-Jan-Santos!" or "Four-Dec-Rio!" Arms waved and fingers waggled. It was stark, raving business bedlam-the biggest, blackest, wildest day in years...
...friend could. After the mob had revenged itself on Friend Turner, Mrs. Turner threatened court action. For that she was strung up by the heels, her clothes drenched with gasoline, wrapped in sudden flames. She was pregnant at the time. "Mister, you ought to've heard that nigger wench howl!" When the flames went out, a man stepped up with a knife and made sure her unborn child died...
...Western Front. We feel the Front in our blood. Shells whistle, our senses sharpen. We feel the animal in us. we want to hide in the earth. An uncertain red glow spreads along the skyline before us. Great heavies boom like an organ. Smaller shells howl, pipe, hiss. Searchlights sweep the dark sky, halt, quiver on a black insect? the airman. He falls. A bell rings?Gas! I remember the gas patients coughing out their burnt lungs in clots. I don my mask. Like a big, soft jellyfish the gas floats...
...dugout. The Front cages us in. The barrage gets heavier. An attack must be coming. Shells howl, flash, bang. Our own hands tremble but we must watch the new recruits. They are mere children with narrow shoulders, so terrified they cannot control their bowels. One of them has a fit, runs outside. Result: the trench gets plastered with lumps of flesh, bits of uniform...
...investment trust is the alleged inability of the individual to choose stocks wisely. Let older and wiser heads, operating with large amounts of capital (runs the argument) do your investing for you. Then to you the poorhouse will never beckon, and at your door no wolf will ever howl. Logical, in many ways, is this theory (though it involves faith, hope and occasionally some charity regarding investment trusts and their management) but many a U. S. investor, doggedly individualistic, will doubtless continue to pick his own issues, watch his own ticker and, if necessary, lose his own shirt...