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Word: ciders (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...Price of Technology In 1846, Abraham Lincoln's friends raised a mere $200 to finance his race for Congress. After he won, Lincoln returned $199.25: he had canvassed the voters on his own horse and spent only 75?-to treat some farm hands to a barrel of cider. In 1860, Lincoln won the presidency without leaving Springfield or making a single speech; his entire national campaign cost $100,000-a sum now barely sufficient for one 30-minute national telecast...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Essay: NOW IS THE FOR ALL GOOD MEN . . . | 1/5/1968 | See Source »

...shop on the day of Green's disappearance and found him unconscious on the floor. "Weinstein wanted me to kill the boy but I wouldn't," said Hammell. Instead, they tried to revive him by holding spirits of ammonia under his nose and splashing him with apple cider. According to Hammell, Weinstein then poured the spirits of ammonia down Green's throat, causing him to go into convulsions...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Philadelphia: Ye Friendly Tobacconist | 11/10/1967 | See Source »

...Yondah, massah," Hark said. He pointed to the shed several yards away, directly at the side of the shop, where the cider barrels lay in a moist and dusty rank in the shadows past the open door. "Red bar'l, massah. Dat's de bar'l fo' a gentleman, massah." When the desire to play the obsequious coon came over him, Hark's voice became so plump and sweet that it was downright unctuous. "Marse Joe, he save dat bar'l for de fines' gentlemens...

Author: By Boisfeuillet JONES Jr., | Title: The Outrage of Benevolent Paternalism | 10/13/1967 | See Source »

...Bother the cider," Cobb said, "where's the brandy...

Author: By Boisfeuillet JONES Jr., | Title: The Outrage of Benevolent Paternalism | 10/13/1967 | See Source »

...brandy fo' you, massah." But again Cobb motioned him back with a brisk wave of his hand.... Something about the man offended me, filled me with the sharpest displeasure, and it wasn't until he limped unsteadily past us through the crackling brown patch of weeds toward the cider press, saying not another word, that I realized it wasn't the man himself who annoyed me so much as it was Hark's manner in his presence--the unspeakable bootlicking Sambo, all giggles and smirks and oily, sniveling servility...

Author: By Boisfeuillet JONES Jr., | Title: The Outrage of Benevolent Paternalism | 10/13/1967 | See Source »

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