Word: anchors
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Ships of war, built to destroy, always look proof against destruction, especially in dock or at anchor. The kind of thing that can happen to them when least expected happened last week aboard the aircraft carrier Langley, at her dock in San Diego, Calif. Other ships of war in the harbor heard an explosion, saw a sheet of flame. Smoke poured from a gaping hole in the Langley's side abaft her bridge. Three sailors who had been working in a launch slung from the Langley's davits, struggled in the water...
...remedy for cancer and to learn how to grow hair. While progress toward the first of these objectives has been slow, a beauty expert of New York has already achieved the second. The fruit of eighteen years study is a process revealed on Wednesday by which he can anchor any number of hairs to the scalp by means of tiny gold springs...
...Carl Llanfear, by heredity incapable of achieving his desired escape from the flypaper pattern of the Philadelphia Llanfears, nevertheless wriggles frantically to achieve his separation from the sticky glue of convention in which his innumerable and, to a reader, indistinguishable relatives are contentedly bogged. His marriage serves only to anchor him more deeply in the sticky golden marsh; mild affairs with other women are not sufficient to release him. Finally, even this rebellious but unsturdy member of the rich and quiet tribe lies down reluctantly with the others, forced to derive such pleasure as he can from tasting the sticky...
...small grey man, with eyes as grey as new wrought awls, backed against a handrail of the Italian liner Conte Rosso when she dropped anchor at quarantine in New York Harbor last week* and permitted reporters to tease noncommittal smiles from him. "Mr. Woods," they chirruped, "who was the person who provided $2,500,000 for the American School for Classical Studies at Athens to excavate the ancient public market place of Athens...
...churning softly down the harbor to the sea. Captain Yves Thomas steered past a line of wooden barges, humped like haymows on the water; wheeled his great ship to pass a steamer. AH he rounded it, he saw the lights of a Norwegian freighter, the Beesengen, riding at anchor. It was too late to swing the bow, too late to reverse his course. Shrill bells and whistles sounded as the bow of the Paris drove into the side of the dingy ship...