Word: hull
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...Secretary of State Cordell Hull last week laid his mellowed memoirs on the tomb of the New Deal. Although the wreath was appropriately floral, there were (also appropriately) some thorns among the roses. Excerpts from his good, grey story, written* at Bethesda Naval Hospital and soon to be published in two volumes by Macmillan, began appearing last week in the good, grey New York Times...
...Errand Boy. Gravely, 76-year-old Cordell Hull sought to correct the impression that he was little more than an errand boy in a State Department actually bossed by Franklin Roosevelt. Between Roosevelt and him there was never an "unfriendly word," although "a few emphatic differences rose between us which we thrashed out bluntly but in a friendly spirit." Hull had to make his own decisions "in the majority of cases." He recommended the moral embargo against Italy during the Ethiopian war. He worked out the details with the British on the overage destroyer deal...
...Questioners. The commissioners were serious and conscientious men. Their chairman was Thomas K. Finletter, a dry, sharp-eyed Wall Street lawyer (Coudert Bros.), onetime special assistant to Cordell Hull and author of a book, Can Representative Government Do the Job?, which pointed out the inefficiencies of the U.S. Government...
...anxious expression, a rueful laugh, a lemony sense of humor-and a tongue in his head that has won him a reputation in Chicago for soundly progressive ideas. He has been away from Chicago for nearly seven years. He served as a wartime assistant to Secretaries Frank Knox, Cordell Hull and Ed Stettinius; he went abroad on several missions for the State Department. Stevenson has numerous friends both in the downstate area (where his family for generations has owned the Bloomington Pantagraph) and on Chicago's La Salle Street, where many Republicans have already promised him their votes...
...never even met his candidate. But what difference did that make? Roared Mister Crump: "Everybody says he has a splendid record." Once called to public attention, Judge Mitchell looked like a natural, indeed. He was a mountain man, tall (6 ft. 3 in.), lean and deliberate-something like Cordell Hull, over whose old court he now presided. He had won a D.S.C. in World War I, had served three years as a lieutenant colonel in the Army's legal section in World War II. Most knowing Tennesseans figured that Judge Mitchell, with Mister Crump's support...