Word: wall
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...Wall, n-a-ow, Cal's a candidate sure enough-he's fixing up his fences," jested the village quipster as frantic cameramen from behind the deadline laid by secret service men watched the shirt-sleeved President uprooting rotten posts, nailing industriously. Later Head Secret Serviceman Dick Jervis was sent to market for victuals. As he was getting into his car Mrs. Coolidge called "Oh, Mr. Jervis, don't forget to get two pounds of string beans...
...nervous Manhattan financier snatched at what he thought was his daily Wall Street Journal. What was this? Editor Kenneth C. Hogate, President C. W. Barren were getting after those bummers who undersold him yesterday! He called the fine news across the room to tell his secretary, found her tittering timorously and avoiding his look. Again he looked at his paper. Here was his name in print! What had he done? Dastardly impudence! Oh! . . . This was not the Wall Street Journal. He was reading the Bawl Street Journal, its gay, impish perfect imitation which the Manhattan Bond Club issues...
...Florida Water and Fragrance" [article by "C. W. Barren" for C. W. Barren, president of the Wall Street Journal, author of many articles analyzing Florida]. "Those who do not like Gory Cables can go to hell. Fifty million dollars have already been spent on this Elysium. Most of this has been for publicity. ... On the highest point, which is approximately five feet eight inches above mean, low down, dirty sea level, they are going to build a beautiful early Spanish missing-style $10,000,000.35 insane asylum. They got the idea from Dr. [Roach] Straton when he was down here...
...Pittsfield, Mass., Stanley Andremewitz, 14, lay abed, slept serenely. Thunderheads crashed over the house; a bolt of lightning hurtled into a tree in the yard, shot over into Stanley's wall, flashed toward his very head, encountered a picture of Christ over the bed, smashed the glass, was deflected into the Andremewitz kitchen, doing Stanley no damage...
...ship news reporter for the Wall Street Journal boarded the Olympic shortly before midnight on Saturday (a fortnight ago). Soon he found his quarry-Thomas Cochran, a partner of J. P. Morgan & Co., who was about to sail for Scotland to shoot grouse with, Mr. Morgan. Mr. Cochran is usually reticent (as are all partners of J. P. Morgan & Co.), but the night air of New York Harbor seemed to make him loquacious. Reporter Morton Nicholls departed from the liner with a thrill in his heart and a magnificent interview in his pocket. Mr. Cochran, whose especial proficiency...