Word: spruced
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...servants say that Oscar must be nearly as old as the President's son, spruce Lieut.-Colonel Oscar von Hindenburg. With his nameless mate Oscar spends his winters in Africa, as do most East Prussian storks, but summer finds him always back at Neudeck to bring not babies but good luck to the 86-year-old Reichspräsident. In backward, superstitious East Prussia nothing is so unlucky for a great landed Junker as to lose his stork. "Take care of Oscar" the President benignly commands when leaving Neudeck, and Oscar, so peasants think, takes care of Old Paul...
...which he and Mrs. Sopwith expect to cross the Atlantic this month, beat her trial horse, W. L Stephenson's Velsheda, twice. Unlike the Shamrocks which were all green, Endeavor is a pale hydrangea blue. She is built entirely of steel except for a mahogany rudder, silver-spruce boom and pine decks...
...hillside by Dictator Kemal after he smashed the Sultanate, perspiring Turks worked furiously to lay a brand new street to the Persian Embassy so that the King of Kings would not be too severely jounced. The last stages of his journey sped him up the Black Sea on a spruce Turkish battle cruiser to Istanbul, then by train to the Turkish capital. Near Easterners quivered with excitement at palavers scheduled for this week, as the two swarthy strong men gripped hands in Ankara, the King of Kings gorgeous in a Persian uniform blazing with jeweled orders. Dictator Kemal sleek-tailed...
Representative Doughton's able second in command who sat beside him last week in conference was Sam Hill of Washington. Representative Hill has the appearance and manners not of a farmer from North Carolina but of a spruce businessman. If, as rumored, Mr. Doughton retires from Congress to take a seat on the Tariff Commission, Representative Hill will succeed to his important job. The rumor, however, is probably to be credited to Mr. Hill, who is well aware how committee chairmen may be puffed up and out of their jobs...
Only the Meiji would know. Firm in this conviction a spruce file of puzzled Japanese Army officers rode out from Tokyo one dawn last week to a pungent park of pine and camphor trees. They crossed a gurgling brook, entered a spotlessly clean quadrangle and faced with awe the Meiji Shrine, an unpainted wooden building, austere, impressive and, to Japanese, sublime...