Word: sombreroes
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...Democrats want Berry for Senator." A year in Washington caused Mr. Hitchcock's modesty to be replaced by an aggressive desire not to go home. Last week, he was running for the nomination to succeed himself against Mr. Berry who is an ex-cowboy, wears a white sombrero, and once astounded a Washington redcap by stepping off a train and shouting "Hell, boy, where's the water-hole?" When the votes were tallied, Mr. Hitchcock came in a bad third, behind a Congressman named Fred Hildebrandt, leaving Rooseveltian Mr. Berry with nothing between himself and the Senate...
...minutes in a downpour without seeing any signs of his hosts, he drove down to the dock where the party had remained weatherbound on the steamer which had brought it from Washington. On the gangplank he witnessed the presentation by Senator Tom Connally of a new Texas sombrero to Vice President Garner in restitution for one Mr. Garner lost umpiring the game two years ago. The Vice President livened the party by leading the band...
...clock this afternoon there will descend the steep steps of Sever 11 a strong-jawed, stern-faced figure, dressed picturesquely in chaps, boots, broad sombrero, and all the other parapherhalia of the Western plains. His spurs will catch on the stairs and twirl with a merry ring; his lasso will describe lazy circles over the heads of the admiring assembly. Knox Chandler, the Cowboy Professor, will mount the platform nonchantly and present his opinions in the most vigorous dialect of the youthful American language...
...closed up the town, El Paso s saloon keepers were doomed to disappointment. Rulers of three-fourths of the West's privately-owned range, the cattlemen were a sober-sided lot. Drawled C. M. Newman, arrangements committee chairman and an oldtime El Pasoan, as he doffed his black sombrero to the delegates: "It's getting so you can't tell a cattleman from a businessman." Only half the cattlemen sported high-heel boots and ten-gallon hats. None tucked in his pants. Sheep raisers and cattlemen, who traditionally loathe one another, shared tables in the Juarez cabarets...
...have the quality her childhood instructors tried in vain to cure her of-a heavy hand. Her drawing is strong. The point of her pictures is always heartily obvious. Now at 59, she is a highly respectable figure in the British art world with her personal trademarks of a sombrero and velvet jacket, her hair in two buns over the ears...