Word: underwear
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...were collected by the Japanese for transfer to their own supply department. On their own, the soldiers went in for simpler forms of looting. Clothes and food were what they wanted, and they were not very discriminate in their tastes: women's silk garments, peasant cotton trousers, shoes, underwear, were all stripped off the backs of their possessors whenever Chinese were unfortunate enough to fall into the hands of Japanese detachments...
...American. He is apt to receive reporters in his underwear, reading a mystery novel. At various times he has played a ukulele, guitar, saxophone. The golf-bug has bitten him. Nothing is more fun for him than to roar out a lusty song (favorite: My Name Is Jon Jonson, I Come From Wisconsin), especially at formal dinners. At parties he sits on the floor if he can. When he drinks, it is not much; when he smokes, it is a Hatamen cigaret-cheap brand the coolies...
...white folks' Rex comes in splendor to Canal Street, the Negroes are having their own carnival. Up squalid New Basin glides a barge, canopied in sacking, to the wharf at Rampart Street and Howard Avenue. Off the barge strides the King of the Zulus, right royal in black underwear, a hula skirt of sea grass, a tin crown. His sceptre is a broomstick, topped by a snow-white rooster. Preceding him is his Queen, behind are his capering dukes. The King mounts his throne-a decrepit easy chair on a mule-drawn wagon. Up darktown's Rampart Street...
...corpse-faced woman with huge plaster breasts. Then they began to bring in the crutches. But not for Ludwig. While other mimes and ballerinas were hung and propped, while even the desiccated swan on the backdrop drooped under the caresses of a clambering nymph in white winter underwear, Ludwig stood it out. But as the music trailed off into the Pilgrim's Chorus, Ludwig sank to earth, plaintively opening a black umbrella...
Last week, its Abingdon season over, the Barter Theatre paid its third annual visit to Manhattan. In chain-store-fed Manhattan there were nine cash customers to one barterer. But the box office accepted a gallon of wine, tubes of toothpaste, some rayon underwear, size 36 and from Drama Critic John Anderson "a jugful of the milk of human kindness neatly skimmed." All these swelled a trifle the season's profits: $95, five barrels of jelly...