Word: hubs
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...newly arrived jazz-lover, whether V-12 or civilian, might as well resign himself right now. Boston just isn't the jazz hub of the universe. The best jazz that can be found a present is the series of Sunday afternoon jam sessions at the Ken, on the corner of Tremont and Warrenton Streets, just beyond the Hotel Bradford. Last Sunday the Ken featured Pete Brown and the Jones Brothers, a local trio with an overdoes of vibraharp, with Cecil Scott's house band in the background. The same group will probably be there next Sunday. It's not particularly...
...Hague case against Studebaker was as weak as it sounded. Around Washington's Jackson Place, national educational hub, it went without saying that...
When he entered, a noisy hub-bub of women's voices struck his ears, and turning to the left, he saw the tea-and-conference room converted into a bridge parlor. Dozens of women were chatting and playing cards. Looking to his right, he saw the former general office room converted into a lounge. gone were the efficient desks. The days of youth conferences, with their headquarters in PBH seemed gone. Where the chairman of the speakers' committee, a German-class acquaintance of Vag's used to recruit students for discussions of foreign policy, controversies over the latest style...
...country farmhouse where we now live, the boojums had had the run of the place and were annoyed at being ousted. They used to steal or break anything new we put in the house, pour water in the new paint cans for painting the house, snatch the hub caps off the cars of anyone ^ho tried to visit us, and generally made lift miserable...
...strictly Hoosier to think of embodying so hefty a theme in a book which in patches is light to the point of ribaldry. It is cheeky to call such a book a "white paper." But these days Washington is a breezy hub of the world, where cuss words, flippancy and wisecracks distinguish the august and the great. The Secretary of State lisps, and therefore says "Jesus Kwyst!," report Davis & Lindley, whose admiration for Cordell Hull's profanity and cracker-box yarns about mules, shirttails and barnyard fowl is right in the Washington groove...