Word: speechlessness
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...ectoplasmic mouth come the public bulls of the President of the United States. Time has made the reporters accustomed, though not resigned, to the Official Spokesman. Once a subject for jest, it has come to be accepted by them as a grim reality. Since the executive is speechless, and since someone must talk, the correspondents go weekly into a scance with the Official Spokesman...
That imperturbable quality grows in him. Editors, recognizing his ability, are irritated by his indolence, then struck foolish and speechless by the impersonal tolerance and good Humor with which he takes his leave. Openings are plentiful, for he can pump a column into a gorgeous political balloon and, modeling his style after Edgar Poe's, turn off fiction serials that harrow most satisfactorily. By sheer imperturbability he proceeds on up to the Brooklyn Eagle's staff, departing, when his Abolition feelings get too vigorous for his employers, to take charge of Publisher McClure's new Crescent in New Orleans...
...Daily Herald, noted mouthpiece of British Labor, and demanded: "Well, how's Communism?" Mr. Slocombe cut the Premier dead. Abashed, Mussolini murmured: "Then I have made a mistake?" turned irresolutely on his heel. A sparrowlike little Dutch correspondent chirped loudly: "You often do!" Flouted, and apparently speechless, II Benito rushed from the hotel. Later he sped back over the hills to Italy and omnipotence...
...embraced each of the six fervently. There were speeches in a pavilion decked as for a returning Caesar with streaming flags and two gilt, victory-winged pylons; officials, including the Burgomaster and the President of the Storting (Parliament) became apoplectic with admiration and praise; Amundsen replied that he was speechless. More cheering, hymns, the national anthem...
...strike of silk-workers in that municipality was in full swing. The strikers invited Mr. Baldwin to address them in their hall. Chief of Police Tracey vetoed the invitation, closed the hall. Undaunted, Mr. Baldwin-whose headquarters are the American Civil Liberties Union, Manhattan-came to town, marched with speechless strikers to the City Hall. "Go for 'em! Break 'em up!" cried a lusty policeman. "I am reading the Bill of Rights"* was all a striker could utter before a police sergeant shoved him from his perch on the top step and recited the Riot...