Word: chunk
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Dates: during 1940-1940
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...Follies of 1941 (produced by Oscar F. Johnson, Edwin H. & Roy L. Shipstad ). Like its four annual predecessors, this big, glistening chunk of the new Ice Age will tour throughout the U. S. (23 cities this year). Today's fancy ice skaters have developed an astounding rapport with each other and with frozen water. They have already done about everything on skates it would be safe to show the children. To other, less accomplished skaters, the great ice stars already begin to seem like gods. To timid nonskaters they frequently seem on the point of killing themselves...
...Bucharest cagey King Carol, who had wooed the Axis too late in life, heard about it when he received a frantic telephone call from his Foreign Minister telling him that Germany and Italy demanded that Rumania submit the dispute to arbitration-i.e., surrender a whacking chunk of Transylvania. The King had until 5 o'clock the next morning. His only consolation was that Germany would guarantee to him what would be left of his Kingdom. He summoned his Crown Council to the Palace, and throughout most of the night King & Councilors cudgeled their brains for a dodge. Just...
...summer of 1930, two Irishmen of the Old Sod-a bookmaker and a politician-put their heads together and figured out a scheme. They would run a lottery on an English horse race, ask the Irish Free State to sanction it, give a fat chunk of the proceeds to impoverished Irish hospitals. R. J. Duggan, the bookmaker, had experience: he had run sweepstakes before. Joseph McGrath, the politician, had a flock of friends: he had been Minister of Labor under President Griffith. With the Bail's consent, Duggan & McGrath formed the Irish Hospitals' Trust...
Altogether the volume is an uncommonly interesting psychological document: touching, somehow admirable case history of an international vagabond, a semi-Dostoevskian, a naïve sophisticate and speculative researcher. It is also a huge chunk of undercured, surprisingly palatable ham. The author is nobody's fool, except perhaps (as he freely grants...
When I was a little chunk of a shirt-tailed lad, a-hoeing corn on the steep hillside, I'd get to the end of a row and look up Troublesome Creek and wonder ij anybody would ever come to larn the young 'uns. Nobody ever come in. Nobody ever went out. We jist growed up and never knowed nothin'. I can't read nor write; many of my chilluns can't read nor write, but I have grands and greats as is the purtiest speakin' and the easiest larnin' of any chilluns...