Word: scornfully
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...housewife whose husband comes a bit unsteadily home point at him the finger of scorn, for if he has been drinking German wine he has done a patriotic duty and he may well smite his breast and proudly assert the fact." '"Formerly all true Germans were called upon to lay down their lives upon the field of battle, which they gladly did. Today I call upon every patriot to drink more wine...
Tempestuous Berliners sought their favorite speisehausen (cafes) and pounded the tables till their steins jumped. "Schweinhund!" they bellowed. "Pig-dog! Derslueht MUSSOLINI!" With wrathful fingers of scorn, they pointed to the "cursed" Mussolini's declaration in the Italian Chamber (TIME, Feb. 15) that Italy intends to "rigorously, methodically and obstinately Italianize" the Alto Adige (the Germanic-Italian Tyrol), and that "Italy is ready if necessary to carry her banners beyond her present frontiers [at the Brenner Pass] but back never...
...here was dragon's meat indeed. Class prejudice could be stirred up like a muddy puddle. Ignorant and penurious people could be made to feel that they had a grievance. They could be made to hate the "highbrow" Outlook, to distrust the "capitalist" New York World, to scorn Mr. Seitz. The News push-pen jammed a piece of copy-paper in his typewriter, wrote as follows...
...Morgan yet is not able to pay our government any interest for five years, only ⅛% for the next ten years, aned Italy. The figures as to Italy's wealth and resources had been verified by the U. S. Commission. Mr. Mills turned with scorn upon those who pointed to Italy's loan at high interest from J. P. Morgan: " If this were the case of a corner grocery store instead of a nation, and the figures were hundreds of dollars instead of millions, there would not be all this 'mystery'; if the interest is high, it proves that Italy...
...menceau. "An Asiatic? At first glance he seems one . . . with his yellow skin, his saddle-nose between prominent cheekbones, and his Tartar moustache . . . a bully out of Brittany . . . an all too aged Cyrano . . . sitting by the fireside, in his peasant boots and grey suede gloves . . . uttering harsh words of scorn . . . the Prussianest of Frenchmen! . . . I could show you letters of German generals and princes who sigh: 'If only we had a German Clémenceau...