Word: vested
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...surrounds his biggest moment: the day in 1912 when a Senate expecting to see an Arizona Senator sworn in wearing cowboy chaps, high-heeled boots and bandanna, was dazzled at the resplendent perfection of a tall gentleman impeccably garbed in sugar-scoop coat, striped trousers, wing collar, sawed-off vest and ribboned pince-nez. "I mowed them down," chuckles Ashurst...
...oversized, low, soft collars and droopy ties that he wore in the time of Queen Victoria. Watery-eyed and frail, but still erect as a ramrod, he now walks with the aid of a stick. Still a natty and very individual dresser, he prefers striped trousers and a white vest for daytime wear. Though his manner in conversation is kindly, dignified and somewhat remote (he speaks English without trace of an accent), his eyes can still flash like an aging lion's when Poland is mentioned...
Hitler's Völkischer Beobachter: "The Germanophobe Ickes belongs to that group in the Washington Cabinet that . . . seeks to put Roosevelt in the foreground of their dark machinations." Essen National Zeitung: "Ickes . . . official co-sinner of the drug king [Coster-Musica], whose vest is by no means clean!" Dr. Goebbels' Der Angriff (under a photograph of Secretary Ickes slumped, ungainly, in a chair): "THIS IS HERR ICKES. Instead of busying himself with the gigantic corruption scandal at home, which is his duty as Minister of the Interior, Herr Ickes makes incendiary speeches against Germany...
...might do well to make peace, the better to fight their common enemies. 2) He disclosed that by diet and exercise he has taken off 44 Ib. in three months, has got down to a fit 170, the better to fight his enemies. Encased in heavy pants, rubber vest, rubber coat, two sweaters, he sweats his way around the University of Washington track every morning at 6 o'clock , flexes the Beck muscles on a rowing machine, subjects the Beck posterior to an electric belt...
Freuchen went after a good living, but he continued to like freedom and excitement. Confinement and routine cramped him like a vest several sizes too small for his barrel chest. As editor of his in-laws' magazine, forced to compromise between literature and margarine sales, he tore out his beard by the fistful. As a landowner he relieved the baronial monotony by inviting troops of guests, among them a radical poet who worked for the revolution by urging wealthy landowners to commit suicide...