Word: poorly
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Born of a very poor family in 1874, Curley's first home was near the city hospital, in the mud-flats of South Boston. It was an environment of native Irishmen, hod-carriers and widow-scrubwomen; a savage place where you had to be tough to be honest and cunning to be dishonest. Curley, at the outset of his career, fell in the middle. He was a politician, and therefore cunning, almost from the beginning, but in contrast to the previous ward leaders he demanded that his constituents get something for their vote. Eventually, after numerous intermediate positions of ward...
...race for mayor, he can hardly be called invincible. Yet after every defeat, when his opponents predicted the end of bossism in Boston, Curley has displayed remarkable resiliency and come back to win again. One reason undoubtedly is that he leaves the city in such a poor financial condition when he is defeated that the burden of reform overwhelms the next mayor. The two men that shared the mayoralty with him during the Twenties, Malcolm E. Nichols and Andrew J. Peters, both left City Hall in near-disgrace while Curley re-emerged as the city's saviour. Maurice J. Tobin...
Johnson went on to say that the overall sale of tickets this year has been disappointing. The Army game should have been a sellout and the Dartmouth game should have drawn much more heavily than it did, he said. Attributing the decline in attendance to the team's poor record, Johnson said that the loss to Columbia was the one which really hurt...
After rallying and setting off on an entertainment tour of veterans hospitals--an opportunity to dub in "Sonny Boy" and "Toot-Toot-Tootsie" (among others) on the sound track--Jolson collapses again. Miss Hale, of course, appears at his bedside. Her lines are poor--she too has to spend her time telling Jolson to relax--but her performance is enough to make her a leading candidate for the worst actress of the year. Unfortunately she stays around to marry Jolson and manage his life...
There'll Be No Changes Made. Poor Frances Trollope took a terrible beating from this nation of officers and gentlemen. Chomping their chaw-packed jaws and deluging her skirts with a running fire of mis-spits, they haw-hawed at the Royal Navy, punched King George in the snoot and tossed Britain (as Cincinnati tossed its garbage) out into the street. When Mrs. Trollope gently hinted at the "total and universal want of manners, both in males and females," she was either assured that the rudeness in question was a local "peculiarity" ("You know so little of America...