Word: ironed
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Quarrels being the order of the day at the Mai-Mai, it took only a few Kaffir-beers before the Negroes chose up sides and began brawling. Within minutes, the fracas got out of hand, and several hundred enraged natives began hurling iron beer mugs, while Negro municipal police looked on helplessly. Spilling into the street, the mob continued the battle with knives, stones and tools. Suddenly, as several Negroes staggered about with screwdrivers and knives sticking grotesquely from their backs, the crowd made an unspoken truce. Ranging themselves on either side of the street, they turned their fury...
...IRON-CURTAIN SHIPMENTS by U.S. firms are running double the 1955 rate. The Commerce Department has issued $12.7 million worth of export licenses for the year's first half v. $13.4 million for all of 1955. New items licensed include farm machinery, cold-rolled steel sheets for auto bodies, railway-car air-conditioning systems...
...People ask me," says he, " 'If your brother-in-law is worth $150 million, what are you worth?' I say. 'Maybe minus $150 million.' You can never tell what ships are worth. Why someday I may even have to sell the whole fleet for scrap iron." Few shipping men think that day will ever come-or, if it does, that Niarchos will lose money on the deal...
MYSTERIOUS CAPITAL from abroad, possibly from Iron Curtain nations, is worrying SEC Chairman J. Sinclair Armstrong. Large amounts of foreign funds are coming into U.S. from Swiss and Canadian banks, which keep sources secret (accounts are known only by number). Possibility that Iron Curtain investors might try to gain secret control of vital U.S. corporations, says Armstrong, "is a matter of great concern...
Reread Willa. Author Siebel's grim little slice of life has the troubling oppressiveness of a Grant Wood painting. Her portrait has a frame of iron, and within it poor Ella and all the rest do not have a chance because Julia Siebel never meant them to have one. Hatred for the harsh side of farm life is here, and hatred for the narrowness of small-town life, but it comes out as a pathological hatred instead of a meaningful one and Ella Beecher seems not so much tragic as vegetable. The publishers compare this embittered tale with...