Word: pinked
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...London barrister, an idealist, but no businessman, pink-faced Tom Hughes set the younger sons to laying out cricket fields, tennis courts, organizing a Rugby football team, dramatic societies, a cornet band. In the Tennessee mountains old English homes sprang up, a "Tabard Inn," a church, a library which included a practically complete set of Hughes first editions, a rare Dickens item, pamphlets by the younger Pitt, the entire series of Illustrator Kate Greenaway. Tom Hughes's mother moved there, lived out her life in "Uffington House." But Tom Hughes's wife thought the whole thing was silly...
Diplomatic Front. Still woefully weak in both man power and material, the Finns left nothing undone to get aid. To keep their U. S. reputation as good debtors (which privately they consider highly amusing) they paid the $234,693 installment on their loan. Tickled pink by the League of Nations' expulsion of Russia (see p. 75), the Finnish delegation to the League got busy drawing up a list of needed supplies. Heading this list must be airplanes and artillery, without which Finland cannot hope to win-especially if Coach Stalin sends his first team into the game. More...
Till last week, white-haired, pink-cheeked Porter Sargent was widely and amiably known as a rich, eccentric Bostonian who publishes the Handbook of Private Schools, whose salty annual prefaces on world affairs amuse many. Last week Mr. Sargent jumped right out of his scholastic skin. Reverting to Revolutionary New England form, Mr. Sargent attempted to flay the hide off British propaganda. If the U. S. people get into World War II, nobody can say that Porter Sargent did not warn them...
...Nelson Johnson is a regular Old King Cole. He is plump as a pillow. He has thinning pale-gold hair, with lashes and brows to match, a face all shades of pink, from salmon to sunset, big enough nose, strong chin, mouth with a chronic smile. In ricksha, cutaway or gas mask he looks more like a tire salesman than an Ambassador...
Last Friday 18 directors of General Electric Co. marched solemnly into the green Directors' Room on the 48th floor of G.E.'s pink Manhattan skyscraper. They sat through the reading of the minutes. Then, white-haired, sparky G.E. President Gerard Swope rose to his full five feet four inches, read to the assembled directors a letter, while Board Chairman Owen D. Young puffed a pipe. Nobody was taken by surprise. The previous evening they had all had a quiet evening talking about it at the Metropolitan Club: after serving 17 years together, and reaching G.E.'s retirement...