Word: rum
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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High noon is rum time on the ships of the British Navy in temperate waters, from the dreadnaught Nelson to the little tug St. Abbs. In the tropics rum hour is 6 p. m. Then the seamen hear the quartermaster pipe, "Up spirits!" Down in the mess the caterer slops into each seaman's "basin" (bowl) one part rum in three parts water. The rum is mixed in a large tub around whose rim, in brass letters, are the words: "The King-God Bless Him." On the King's birthday all hands get a double ration of straight...
Times have changed with Britain and the British Navy. Last week the Admiralty announced that 60% of the men now pass up the rum for the tuppence. This is a particularly hard state of affairs since the rum costs the Navy less than a penny a portion. Cash handed out to abstainers represents a clear loss of one penny per day per abstainer. At the end of a month each abstaining British seaman has five shillings rum allowance with which he can buy a whole quart of cheap rum...
Bacardi. No one knows who will get the contract for Cuba's rum but nearly every distributor has flirted ardently with the heirs of Founder Facundo Bacardi. At least seven bidders at one time or another have sworn that the agency was theirs. But Facundo Bacardi (pronounced "back-ar-dee'') had 22 grandchildren and most of the 16 living and their various in-laws like to have a hand in running the huge Santiago distillery. As soon as a distributor was certain he had landed the agency, he would discover that another Bacardi was dickering with another...
...marines" fled Jones, Imperator. He was pursued by the tom-tom's beat, by the tax-leeched natives whom he had ruled, by voodoo devils, by the weakness of the mortal flesh. Three shots rang out. His Majesty fell, staggered forward, collapsed at the feet of Smithers, white, rum-soaked, trader. "Where's year 'igh an' mighty airs now, yer bloomin' Majesty? Gawd blimey, but yer died in the 'eighth o' style...
...Square Presbyterian Church, bushy-bearded, scholarly Dr. Parkhurst amazed his congregation by a sermon in which he charged that gambling and prostitution were protected by New York's police. He hotly described the Tammany administration as "a damnable pack of administrative bloodhounds, polluted harpies, and a lying, perjured, rum-soaked, libidinous lot." When he failed either to substantiate or retract his charges, a grand jury denounced him for "dragging New York into the mire and wiping his feet on it." He determined to collect proof of his charges personally. Disguised in checked black & white trousers, red flannel...