Word: haggardly
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Grey and murky dawned Monday, March 4, in Washington, seventh anniversary of the New Deal-seven years since the miserable, slushy day he rode, face grave, to the Inauguration ceremonies beside haggard Herbert Hoover. In mufti-no sugar-scoop coat-trailed by his secretariat, he drove around Lafayette Square to the buff-stucco Church of the Presidents, old St. John's (Episcopal). Surrounded by officialdom, Wife Eleanor, Mother Sara, he sat solemnly through an anniversary service. Presiding in the chancel was robust, 83-year-old Endicott ("Peabo") Peabody,* Groton School headmaster, who has given diplomas to Franklin Roosevelt...
...flag came down from the White House staff; a haggard, grey-faced, weary President was whisked over slush-bound streets to his special train on the lower concourse of echoing Union Station. Prying newsmen had discovered Franklin Roosevelt was headed for Pensacola, guessed he would there board the cruiser Tuscaloosa. But every movement had been shrouded in gloomy mystery; trainmen acted as if they had sealed orders, knew only that they were headed south. For the first time since his Administration began, Franklin Roosevelt had not furnished the press with an exactly detailed itinerary of his trip. ". . . Submarines," said...
Died. Dr. William David Haggard, 67, noted Nashville, Tenn. surgeon, president of the American Medical Association (1925) and the American College of Surgeons (1933); of a heart attack; in Palm Beach...
When a Frenchman, over his hot brioches and chocolate, unfolds his morning paper to stare at gaping columns of white space, he shrugs and murmurs philosophically : "Anastasie!" A haggard, black-gowned, crotchety old maid, armed with an immense pair of shears, Anastasie is a characteristic creation of Gallic wit. She personifies the tightlipped, prudish silence clamped on the French press in wartime...
...base of the Carpathian Mountains. Rolling hills in the background, overshadowed by the black mass of a 3,000-ft. peak; the Prut River flowing nearby. Enter Colonel Josef Beck, Foreign Minister of Poland. No longer the same man as in Act I and II, the Colonel is haggard, sleepless; the sardonic elegance that marked his appearance has vanished. With him is Marshal Smigly-Rydz, Commander in Chief of the Polish Armies, equally haggard, desperate. The two men approach, talking angrily. Beck suddenly stops, faces the General, Smigly-Rydz draws back; onlookers crowd nearer. Beck speaks...