Word: whirrings
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Washington alone they number around 300, with salaries totaling close to $1,000,000 a year. Mimeographs whir endlessly with their press handouts, which are sorted and clipped together at electrical revolving tables, rushed by messenger to a battered table in the lobby of the National Press Club. There, any afternoon, correspondents hurrying in for a 5 o'clock whiskey & soda can run through an assortment like this...
Moments: A lion mangling a native lute player; a lion tamer going mad with fear when lions, loose and hungry, besiege him and his shipmates in a cave. A moment not composed by Creelman occurred when Tarzan, 3-year-old trained Nubian lion, was startled by the whir of motors in a hidden camera box while Bickford was lying on the ground in front of him. The beast sank its teeth in the actor's neck, shook him, dropped him, leaped on his prostrate body, stood there until scared off. Nine days later Bickford, with his bandages disguised...
Past Bausch & Lomb moving picture projection lenses whir about 120,000,000 ft. of film each day. The lenses probably bring Bausch & Lomb more money than any of their other devices. But closest to President Edward Bausch's heart remains the microscope. To him "the microscope has proven perhaps the greatest single aid of science in the combating and prevention of disease." Proud he is that his lenses have led to three major biological advances of 1932. Boasted he last week: "We built for Professor Edmund Newton Harvey of Princeton a centrifugal microscope which allows living cells...
Happily listening to whir of wheels and click of chips, Mayor Edward Ewing Roberts of Reno, survivor of the Old West, declared: "It's all nonsense trying to regulate people's morals by law. For eight years I've been trying to make Reno a place where everybody can do what they please?just so they don't interfere with other people's rights. Now we can do lawfully what Nevada has always done under cover...
...which she must sing her final immolation music and then ride bravely into the flaming pyre. A good Grane is as hard to find as a good German tenor. He must look spirited yet be willing to stand quietly while singers sing loudly and at close range, strings whir, brasses blare, drums pound and steam hisses up through the stage traps. In St. Paul, when the German Grand Opera visited there last year, the Grane was Daisy, a local two-ton, snow-white mare who earns her living regularly by pulling a milkwagon. Daisy looked the part admirably...