Word: longingly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...pulling streetcars, later painted unicorns, circuses, zebras playing banjos. Since she was never exposed to lessons in anatomy, drawing or perspective, her people and animals are boneless but nonetheless seem natural. Her father's explanation: "She draws a picture of an animal like you write your name-through long, uninhibited practice...
...schools ever tried to teach Dahlov. She went her own gait, shifting happily about from crayons to lithographs, wood carving to ceramics, water colors to oils. No prodigy, she had the varying interests of a normal, healthy child; through them all kept the Zorach household overrun with animals. Her long-suffering family did not even rebel when she brought home a baby skunk, though somehow it escaped during the night...
Pointing a long finger, Senate President Robert C. Hendrickson shoved it directly under the falcon nose of Jersey City's Mayor Frank Hague, charged that he alone was responsible for Jersey Central's bankruptcy. Reason: Boss Hague blocked the railroad tax compromise. Hague excuse: The bill was an attempted "tax steal." Roared he: "They are walking out with $35,000,000, and they are going to crucify Hague because he tells them they can't take that. . . . Mr. Railroads, just as long as the small taxpayers must submit, you'll submit. . . . Hague and Hagueism will haunt...
Even single-minded Dr. Beaven unlimbers a little at the sight of suffering air-raid victims, stops his girl hunt long enough to patch them up. When Japanese undo his handiwork by bombing the hospital, a shrapnel splinter lodges in Dr. Beaven's scientific brain, stays there until Dr. Forster, rushing by plane, sampan and pony, arrives in time to remove it, in the most delicate operation of his life. Science, says he, can do no more, but science cannot bring Dr. Beaven out of his coma. When Audrey's timely arrival turns the trick, Dr. Forster piously...
Once there was a little man in a long black coat who roamed the hard-coal fields of Pennsylvania, doing mighty deeds for the United Mine Workers of America. He was John Mitchell, and quite a boy. At 28, he was president of the union; at 32 (in 1902), he led the strike which won an eight-hour day in the coal fields. Soft-coal miners voted him out of office in 1908, eventually put John Llewellyn Lewis in John Mitchell's place. But since John Mitchell died in 1919, he rather than John Lewis has been the sainted...