Word: smokes
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...such a birthday. Despite his expressed desire to spend the day quietly in his little Alpine cottage near Berchtesgaden he could not avoid the attentions of his delirious followers. They roused him with flowers, they roused him with telegrams, bottles of wine, boxes of cigars (Chancellor Hitler does not smoke, drinks nothing stronger than beer), Easter eggs, Westphalian hams, lumps of sugar for his police dogs. Back in the Chancellery in Berlin the presents came in by the carload. Sofa cushions were the most popular, there were over 1,000 of them; also clocks, books, pictures, rugs, clothes, a birthday...
...were not his telegrams the electric power which welded the Roosevelt- Mc-Adoo-Garner deal and put the New Deal in the White House? Controlled inflation, the policy of the hour-whose policy is it, if not his? And looking out upon the Pacific he may sometimes see the smoke of a fleet which he has always urged must be ready to fend off the Yellow Peril...
Holy Week of Pope Pius XI's Holy Year ended in Rome last week with a great banging of bronze bells and the smoke of thousands of censers. In Rome to hear the bells and smell the smoke were the Vice Chancellor of Germany and Premier of Prussia but their minds were on other things. Lean-jawed Col. von Papen and blustering, full-blooded Capt. Goring darted from one ancient palace to the next, from the Vatican to the Air Ministry, to Il Duce's office. Shortly stumpy little Chancellor Engelbert Dollfuss of Austria came roaring over...
...predigested knowledge into dullards and lazybones. The tutor is usually a shrewd, undersized person who was at one time the "whiz" or "shark" of his college class. There is usually a legend that he has been offered enormous sums to take a college professorship. He works in a grimy, smoke-laden office, his shirt-sleeves rolled up, is busiest when examination time approaches. His stock-in-trade is a file of old examination papers, a collection of mimeographed texts, outlines, shortcuts. That these are extracted copiously without by-your-leave from authorized textbooks, should long have been obvious to everybody...
Exhaling cigaret smoke through his nose, a slight man, tough as raffia, brown as leather, leaned over a collapsible campstool tugging at the laces of his chamois slippers. Into the concrete cave of his dressing-room crept the sound of remote applause. A distant rain of handclapping drifted in, and many smells-a realistic mixture of axle-graphite, new timber, horse sweat, ropes, giraffe dung. His laces pulled and fastened, the wiry little man stood up and flexed his fingers, appraised their steely strength. A buzzer sounded from behind a dented locker, a girl's voice called out with...