Jerry

We stated in our last that the award in this class was sent to Fowler & Vannatta’s Jerry, but this was a mistake which arose from the fact that there were two Jerrys in this class and both of them grade Herefords, one from Benton County, Ind., and one shown by Wallace Libby & Co., Ottawa, Ill. When the awards were made it was announced that Mr. Vannatta’s Jerry was the winner, and that breeder left for his home congratulating himself on the fact of having a winner on the block; […]

..."I, incidentally, am Jeremy Wilson, and anyone who abbreviates that to 'Jerry' does so at unspeakable peril." "Oh really?" Kay asked. "Why?" "Well, just a wartime hangover. We used to call the Germans 'Jerries'." "I don't know much about the German war."

And Jerry would appear, his work-clothes clean and pressed, his thinning rust-red hair combed flat, his glasses round and earnest, and quietly fix whatever was wrong. There was a Mrs. Jerry, who kept the creases sharp and clean in the tan workpants, and several small Jerrys, whom Sawyer & Sloat invariably remembered at Christmas. Jack had been small enough to associate the name Jerry with Tom Cat’s eternal adversary [Jerry Mouse], and so imagined that the handyman and Mrs. Jerry and the little Jerrys lived in a giant mouse-hole, accessible by a curved arch cut into a baseboard.

Maxine grabbed the hair on the top of her head. “No, Jerry, I’m not talking hippy dippy. You’re not hearing me.” / Carla snickered. “I’m going to remember what he just said about nostalgia the next time he tells one of his Brown Beret stories.” She glanced around the table. “You may not know it, but Jerry is a sucker for stories with a moral to them.” / Vizenor shifted in his seat, cleared his throat. […] Carla looked at the Berkeley writer, startled. “I’m sorry, I forgot there were two Jerrys here. I was referring to the guy at the head of the table—Martinez.” There was uncomfortable laughter, then a long silence as the assembled activists eyed one another and sipped coffee. Jerry Vizenor leaned forward on his elbows and massaged his temples.

There are many Nancies and Jerries in the world. They get told apart by a further name, such as Nancy Lovelace, or Jerry Turing.

If the names we give our children represent our hopes for the future, names like Kathie and Jerry, Darlene and Butch are dreams of contentment. […] Of course, the generation bestowed with those contented names ended up far from content. The little Kathies and Jerries born in 1950 grew up to be the protesters, free-lovers, and Woodstock attendees of 1969.

Phipps went on: “One of our chaps, out on a reccy over the Bulgarian front, thought he saw something in the snow. Something fishy. He dropped down to have a dekko and nearly had kittens. What d'you think? Jerry's got a mass of stuff there—tanks, guns, lorries, every sort of heavy armament. All camouflaged. White.”

[…] chucking your towel on the sunbed and making sure Jerry doesn't get there first.

But Robert had been cheeriness itself, had told them to buck up and think of England, reminding them that moaning wasn’t going to beat the Jerries.

We used chamber-pots a good deal – ‘jerries’ – cause of much hilarity doe to the hostilities.

If a man builds a jerry-house, he has a jerry conscience; and there are a lot of consciences of that description going about.

Watch stealing, or jerry getting, as the thieving fraternity designate the operation, is carried on to a considerable extent all the year round.

R. Austin Freeman, A Savant's Vendetta 'Do you know a jerry when you sees one — a red 'un, mind you?' […] The fellow looked furtively at the door and then, diving into an inner pocket, pulled out a handsome gold watch with a massive chain attached, exhibited it for a moment and then dropped it back.