Word: nez
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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There he stayed. Senator Henry Fountain Ashurst became a Washington character. Tall, with the suave manner of a Shakespearean actor, he gave up his cowboy clothes for sleek, striped trousers, spade-tailed coat, pince-nez on a wide black ribbon. His speeches were orations, models of polysyllabic splendor. He described himself as a "veritable peripatetic bifurcated volcano in behalf of the principles of my party." But meatily between the thick-hunked verbiage were sandwiched slices of wit and wisdom. He was one man who dared to tackle rough-&-tumble Huey Long in debate on the Senate floor. He left...
...Dunkirk, Dieppe, Calais, Boulogne, Brest and all the way down to the Bay of Biscay. That big convoys of merchant supply and transport ships had been port-hopping into the Channel under cover of dark and big guns. That a nest of these big guns festered at Cap Gris Nez, where the Channel is narrowest. That behind the vessels and guns thousands of troops were being moved up; and behind the troops supplies were based on Osnabrück, Mannheim, Aachen, Mann, Krefeld. That the invasion might come from any direction, not excepting Eire. That Hermann Göring...
...cannot mistake the characters pilloried in The Wrong Attitude. One, whom Chanler grew to dis like so ardently that he carried a piece of lead pipe to swing whenever he thought of him, was "Chappie"- St. Paul's famed Housemaster Willard "Chappie" Scudder. Chappie wore a bifocal pince-nez and a drooping, waxed mustache, dressed in the height of fashion, was thoroughly at home at lawn parties,"never let his slight paunch get to be more than a slight paunch," in every way exemplified "the right attitude...
Paunchy, sloppy, nervous and absentminded, he sits in an enormous office, his pince-nez suspended on a black ribbon, ashes all over his vest. Before he has finished his cigar, he starts sucking a cold pipe, then returns to the cigar. He speaks into an intercommunicator, gets no answer, shouts at it, then finds he forgot to turn it on. Chuckling and giggling, he delights in whimsies, fables and gags of the sort that baffle most businessmen, some of whom think he is insane...
Last week at his press conference President Roosevelt said his say about selective-military service. He leaned well back in his swivel chair, clamped on his pince-nez, blew his lungs empty and talked for half an hour without interruption or question. There was a story in what he said. (He was for it.) But, to correspondents who had been impressed at the time of the Chicago Convention with his nervousness and fatigue, there was another story in how he looked-at ease, rested, confident and composed, his sleeves rolled up, his hair slicked back, and his eyes sharp...