Word: looke
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1920-1929
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...aviation. Last week it was mostly aviation with a dash of farm relief thrown in (see THE PRESIDENCY, p. 5). Herbert Hoover has a brain that works in vast, sweeping programs. He showed Mr. Coolidge a plan for commercial aviation that made the Berlin-Byzantine-Bagdad railroad scheme look like the Toonerville Trolley. Mr. Coolidge approved...
...shirts, usually with the Mexican eagle and serpent embroidered on the bosom-and armed to the teeth. I wanted a photograph of one of these groups, but the 'evangelist' promptly stopped me. The laws in Mexico today forbid photographing local types and costumes that make the country look to foreigners as if it were theatrical and out of date...
...with a Gannett paper in town, Winston-Salem's light is in no danger of bushel-burial, despite a curious feature of that town which any friend of Mr. Gannett's would not fail to remark should he accompany the publisher down there some day to look things over...
...MONKEY!" The Hon. John Jacob Astor ran to his mother, clambered into her lap. He is aged seven. Last week photographers snapped busily Lady Nancy Astor, onetime Virginia beauty, first woman member of the British Parliament, here on her second U. S. visit. She was "traveling incognito," she said, looking admiringly at her 17-year-old Phyllis, who did look well. Michael, aged ten, shuffled against the Hon. John Jacob, against quiet David, 15, a bit self-conscious in his natty new long pants. "Smile, Jakey," said Lady Astor. Reporters quizzed. She answered graciously: No, Phyllis did not drink...
...what he thought was his daily Wall Street Journal. What was this? Editor Kenneth C. Hogate, President C. W. Barren were getting after those bummers who undersold him yesterday! He called the fine news across the room to tell his secretary, found her tittering timorously and avoiding his look. Again he looked at his paper. Here was his name in print! What had he done? Dastardly impudence! Oh! . . . This was not the Wall Street Journal. He was reading the Bawl Street Journal, its gay, impish perfect imitation which the Manhattan Bond Club issues for its annual picnic. Now he could...