Word: pattered
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...radio station in Gary, Ind. boomed out one night last week: "Here we are, folks, right on the scene of a gigantic man hunt. The troops are tramping through the field on the trail of the convicts. Listen closely, folks, listen to that deadly patter of lead." Bang! Bang! Bang...
...stubborn Republican who was resisting President Roosevelt's effort to turn him out of office was revealed last week in squat, bearded Federal Trade Commissioner William E. Humphrey. Appointed as a stand-patter by President Coolidge in 1925, Commissioner Humphrey was reappointed by President Hoover in 1931. President Roosevelt wrote him two months ago that his resignation would be acceptable in the make-over of the Government for the New Deal. Commissioner Humphrey replied that he had no idea of getting out, that no criticism had ever been made of his work, that the President had no right...
...room. On it was engraved: "Calvin Coolidge-1872-1933." Above it hung an oil painting of the onetime Presidential yacht Mayflower, one of Calvin Coolidge's few genuine diversions in office. Harry Ross stood close by. The only sound in the stillness of the house was the pitter-patter of Tiny Tim's claws as the Coolidge chow came & went on the hardwood floors. Far away through the same night with many a long whistle there roared a 13-car special bearing the great of Washington to Northampton...
...better-known Savoy Operas, the Civic Light Opera Company has learned to be lusty in choruses, whimsical in patter-songs, and sentimental in arias. They can shake the deck of the good ship "Pinafore," snapping their fingers at a foeman's taunts, along with their sisters and their cousins and their aunts. Or, transformed into Pirates, they can sally forth to seek their prey and help themselves in a royal way. But as Gondolieri, whose life is "loving and laughing and quipping and quaffing," they miss the right note of delicate gayety. They sing "Buon' giorno, signorine!" like the police...
William Danforth, lately stopped from the Mikado's throne, strode about in the mock-gloom of a black cape and hat, hissing patter-songs between his teeth, or bellowing out a sinister line a quartertone flat, to make your blood run cold...