Word: tooled
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...their sneers have grown blunted. Old Paul is not "too old" it seems, for the many duties of a President. If Herr Ludendorff supplied his "War brains," President Hindenburg still possesses enough of his own for peace times. And last week he disproved the charge that he is the tool of the Nationalists by sending to Chancellor Marx a long letter on the basis of which the Nationalists laid aside their former prejudices and joined the Government...
...human qualities-strength, vigor, integrity, the beauty of a well-knit body and the fundamental character essential to a good craftsman. . . . His bronzes . . . should appeal to a large audience in Detroit, a city where men of millions know the feel of an engine throttle and the heft of a tool." They saw a barrel-chested iron-forger, naked above his leather apron, poising his sledge for a blow. They saw a strong-armed Nordic guiding an electric drill, and a cool Nordic in overalls _ and gauntlets, riding midair on a girder -perhaps a bone in the steel skeleton...
...Rogers may rally other joyous wits and fearless spirits to his cause. The future may have an Ariemus Ward, a Josh Billings, a Mr. Dooley yet unborn. It is certainly to be hoped that this is true. For not only is the cool, sour edge of satire a keen tool to political progress, but without it, this business of government would become a dreary thing indeed...
...allegory. God, Heaven and Hell were stripped of reality and are now only bloodless metaphysical abstractions to very orthodox people. Whether the Darwinian form of biological theory is ever fully demonstrated or not, says Mr. Bradford, never again will special and immutable creation be found in the mental tool-chests of thinking men. And what Darwin thought of reconciling science and religion is plainly indicated in a quotation in one of his letters about an orthodox admirer: "He says he is chiefly converted because my books make the Birth of Christ, Redemption by Grace, etc., plain to him! How funny...
...those who worked in his store. He never allowed John Shedd to make change for a customer. On the long counter, polished and fragrant with the memory of countless bags of coffee and packages of flour and chocolate pushed across its surface, John Shedd did up his parcel, tool: the customer's coin, and stood waiting for his boss (who was usually occupied elsewhere) to come and get the change out of the cash-drawer. Time was wasted; customers grew impatient. One day a woman make an urgent petition...