Word: victims
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Ameche (rhymes with peachy) lives on a San Fernando Valley ranch, drives ten miles into town for dinner because he finds his home "too lonely." He is almost 6 ft. tall, 170 lb., fond of practical jokes of which his fellow professionals frequently make him the victim. Accused of being dull in his love scenes, Ameche has given cinemagazines the following alibi: "Valentino was the impetuous type . . . then he would slow up and make the ladies chase him. Mrs. Ameche would not care for this type of lover...
...usual, the chief victim of this lucrative international racket was the U. S., which grows no rubber, uses more than one-half the world's supply. Henry Ford, with his 2,500,000-acre concession in the heart of Brazil's Amazon jungles, hopes eventually to free himself if not the U. S. from its vulnerable dependence on Far Eastern rubber...
...despite his genuine sympathy with the cause of teaching, Governor Hurley has fallen victim to the benighted belief that the clammy hand of authority can root out radical thinking. No authority under the sun possess the power to root out any thinking, whether it be radical or reactionary. Authorities in the Middle Ages tried to root out heresy, only to see it spread like wildfire. The sole force that can root out erroneous thinking is the ultra-violet ray of truth. For "the vicious minorities whose motives are inimical to. . . the principles on which the Republic was founded" will never...
Pictures, of course, are the sine-qua non, of nice, attractive make-ups. When the victim happens to be an artist's model, and a photographer's artist model at that, everybody has just oodies of fun and he result often finds Mr. Justice Roberts staring unashamed into the coy, but deeply soulful eyes a trifle distorted by the wirephoto process, of a girl, whose spirit is forever fresh (copyright, 1937, by "Inside Detective" and "Front Page Detective Magazines...
...with childish delight, and then quickly stifled her cry for fear of being heard and seen. Hunching her shoulders and crouching like an adventurous puppy waiting to pounce upon a mouse, she cautiously watched a tall, scrawny human being ambulate down the side-walk toward her. Indeed, the prospective victim-- for victim she intended him to be--was worthy of attack; he had the proverbial look of a worried professor, vacantly intellectual, as he stared glumly at the concrete pacing. And his grey felt hat, the object of our little one's mocking attention, was twice too big and smacked...