Word: silver
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...party moved into the dining room. The White House gold-and-silver service flashed in the noon sun. Tables were spread with platters of jellied salmon, jellied vegetable rings, hot chicken sandwiches, roast beef, a mountainous wedding cake frosted with signs of the Zodiac, doves and a big American eagle. Corks popped from magnums of champagne. President Roosevelt made a little speech...
...dying bravely for us; so are Russians, British, Chinese; but in Washington the spectacle of pork-barrel politics is as unblushing as ever. The ad denounced the farm bloc as "those to whom V means Votes in November." Other culprits: the labor lobby, the anti-labor bloc, the silver bloc, all kinds of blocs. Said the Citizens For Victory, taking shame for the nation: "December 7-Bataan-our sailors gasping for air and drowning in oil-our boys diving their lines out on Jap battleships-all have made no difference. Surely this is not the voice of the real America...
...waste like this is the one big reason for the raw-materials crisis. He wants a new, over-all review of all Army & Navy specifications, with particular emphasis upon using more secondary, reprocessed metals. He also believes that castings could replace metal-wasting machining operations in many cases, that silver could bear much more of the load borne by copper, nickel...
Later on, Fant's death restores America's good name. She still has her moments. She powders the webs of 100,000 Mississippi Bayou spiders with gold and silver dust for a treacherous daughter's highfalutin wedding. But the latter part of Drivin' Woman is an account of the bracing fight of the small tobacco farmers against the Trust. Descriptions of raising, grading, priming and selling tobacco result in a fragment of U.S. social-and-economic history so simple and sound that not even Mrs. Chevalier's panchromatic prose can make it much less...
...Park Avenue drawing rooms and 52nd Street nightclubs he cut an exquisite figure. Always heavily perfumed, he was in the habit of remarking complacently: "I smell to heaven." He carried his own special brand of tea in a silver snuffbox to drink in nightclubs. He wore evening scarves by Schiaparelli, delighted in yanking up his pants leg and displaying his solid-gold garter clasps, studded with his four initials. He took up golf once but dropped it immediately, after finding himself in a locker room with a crowd of muscular, boisterous players. "It was too goddamn manly," he said...