Word: lumbers
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...five-year industrialization plan] to do things on an American scale, but insolence on a scale like this we never expected from people who ought to realize that they represent an important State administration. When Mr. Fish asks the American Government to demand the right of investigation of our lumber camps we can only reply : 'Take your feet off the table, Mr. Representative, you are not in your own home...
...Horrors." Among Britain's most militant anti-Reds is able Sir Hilton Young. He wants Soviet lumber excluded from Great Britain under the Foreign Prison Made Goods Act of 1897. To prove that Soviet lumber is convict-hewn, Sir Hilton recently submitted to the Prime Minister sworn statements by three Russian refugees that they as "convicts" had been "forced" to cut wood in Russian forests, had witnessed "horrors" (TIME, Sept...
...elsewhere) occurs after the rafts are broken up in the giant sawmill pools. If the Soviet Government would permit, U. S. inspectors might be sent to watch each Russian log from tree to sawmill to ship. Otherwise the U. S. Congress must now decide whether to bar all Soviet lumber because some of it is convict-hewn, or to admit the inextricable mixture as Mr. MacDonald is doing...
...with his pen and camera than he could at an office desk. To blunt questions as to what his father's name is, what he does in The City, Photographer Beaton blushed, "My father is Scotch," said he. "His business is wholesale-something to do with coal and lumber. Oh dear, this is frightfully embarrassing." When Cecil Beaton was ten, the Scotch-wholesaler father presented him with a 3A folding Kodak. Cecil has used it ever since-the same one. Pictures which he skillfully took with it interested the editor of the Sketch. He gave an exhibition, received commissions...
...long-used mind, the mind of one past middle-age, and you will realize how pure and white and glistening and untouched it is. Imagine the trodden, trampled, often miry footpaths, (no, thought-paths) of a long-used mind, pitted with grievances, scarred with ugliness, cumbered with useless lumber, strewn with outworn hopes, clouded with disappointments and with sorrows, rusty with neglected opportunities, creaking with dismal hopeless habits. And then imagine the little lustrous honeycomb of cells of pearly pearly white that my son Simon...