Word: lane
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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When the U. S. entered the World War, the late Franklin K. Lane, then Secretary of the Interior, was called upon by keen-eyed Mr. Campbell, who had a proposition. His idea was that untold quantities of wheat could be grown upon Indian reservation lands lying idle...
...Lane, impressed, gave him contracts whereby on each 10,000 acre unit he was to turn over one-tenth of the crop to the Indians without cost. Manhattan bankers backed able Mr. Campbell financially, eventually turned the whole proposition over to him. Today his idea is embodied in the Campbell Farming Corporation, covering some 95,000 acres. This year he cultivated 38,000 acres of wheat, yielding some 500,000 bushels; cultivated 7,000 acres of flax...
...London, Sir William Arbuthnot Lane, surgeon, authority on intestinal disorders (TIME, Dec. 7), found his photograph printed on 40,000 menus of Lyons restaurants.* The printing was done without his knowledge. He needs no such publicity. Nor does such publicity injure his reputation, nor curtail his skill. None the less, the British Medical Association denounced him, even though he had resigned from it a year ago because of professional criticism of his disease prevention work.† At this time Sir William simply folded his hands and declared: "In England, if any one writes to the newspapers and signs his name...
...heart by a thief. Died. Senator Bert M. Fernald, 68; at West Poland, Me., of heart disease. Died. Robert Stanley Weir, 69; in Memphremagog, Quebec. Died. Margaret Charlotte Smith Howard, 72, Baroness Strathcona, rich, only child of the first Lord Strathcona, widow of a prominent physician; at her Park Lane home in London. A peeress in her own right through special provision, Baroness Strathcona in October 1922 gave $500,000 to Sir James McGrigor in a futile effort to save his banking from failure, presumably because Sir James' father had paid the Baroness' father's passage...
...kerosene lamps shed garish glimmer on yellow pine walls, rows of stolid Vermonters, a white-surpliced young rector. The President and his wife came down the lane, down the aisle, sat down. Few looked at them. . . . The rector spoke, modernistically, then made an appeal for money for new hymnals, since the old ones had been stolen by souvenir-seekers. The President gazed vaguely at his 80-year-old uncle, John Wilder, singing lustily in the chorus in spite of the fact that he had fiddled for dancers far into the night before. ¶While the President and Mrs. Coolidge tour...