Word: broken-down
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...western states have shown what can be done in this drive. California, Montana, and Nevada are in the vanguard in the west. Nevada, with a population almost exactly the size of Cambridge, has collected 653 tons, or 11.87 pounds per capita. There may have been a few more broken-down Model T's in Nevada, but otherwise there is no real reason why Cambridge shouldn't rustle up 600 tons as well. Yet the whole state of Massachusetts has turned in a mere 512 tons...
...workers ("all engineers and no workmen"), from 200 in 1928. His machinery was rusting, the floors sagging, windows broken, ceilings cobwebbed. Grass grew in the driveway that led to the Rising Sun Stove Polish factory he bought in plush '28. Tobe's engineers became expert in repairing broken-down equipment with bailing wire and tweezers. The only way they kept alive at all was on small specialty jobsקike keeping the tenants from moving out of an apartment house en masse because of radio static, whose source they finally traced to the thermostat in a goldfish bowl...
There he sat at table with a broken-down laboratory assistant, a lavender college student, a mousy-genteel kleptomaniac widow, a moth-eaten elocutionist, a stale bibliophile who dismissed all ideas with "forgive my sense of humor"—a gallery which should convince almost everybody that Wells, like Dickens, is no caricaturist of English life but a dispenser of literal and horrifying truth. And there Teddy ran foul of two "overripe virgins," bleached Miss Blame and malapropist Miss Birkenhead, who once spent six months in Paris, calls her Paris sugar daddy her faux...
...Cohen will be off on the third lap of a meteoric defense career. Frank Cohen's company, Empire Ordnance Inc. (whose stockholders own Savannah Shipyards), is less than one and a half years old. It began in May 1940 as a shoestring gamble whose only property was a broken-down 89-year-old iron foundry near Philadelphia called the Pencoyd Iron Works...
There is no heaven for broken-down prize fighters. But after the last bell has clanged for his last fight, many a boxer has turned barkeep. Joe Madden, onetime lightweight, is probably the only ex-pug who can trace his clicking cash register to his ability to write rather than fight. One night last week 500 of Madden's loyal customers jammed his Manhattan-cafe. Tennist Alice Marble sang, Sportswriter Richards Vidmer helped wait on table. They rang up $1,500 in his cash register-not for Joe Madden but for New York City's needy kids...