Word: ate
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Richberg's Cafe on U.S. Highway 11 in Enterprise, Miss., served customers Southern style: blacks entered and ate at one end of the establishment, whites at the other, with a partition in between. That type of separation was outlawed in 1964 by the public-accommodation section of the Federal Civil Rights Act, which applied to the cafe because substantial quantities of food and beverages served came from outside the state. But such new-found laws were not about to move Proprietor A. W. Richberg. When the Federal Government sued, Richberg simply renamed the cafe's white section "Dixie...
...credited with giving his group a sound grounding in Restoration style, because during that segment they managed not only to act funnily within the flitty Restoration method, but also to satirize conventions of Restoration theatre and mores, even to the point of improvising gossip about how Lady Carlisle ate her turnip. And Shakespeare got his due, as one would expect, given a grave on a putting green. Ken Tigar, possibly the quickest witted of this quick crew, finally declaimed "come, my trusty nine iron" as he plunged the weapon through his breast...
...talked well, ate well, hunted superbly, and knew every U.S. President from Rutherford B. Hayes to Woodrow Wilson. The wedding reception of his daughter Clare in 1910 was attended by four members of the British Cabinet, including Churchill, then Home Secretary. It was also attended by several bill collectors, who were seated by themselves in a downstairs parlor. Frewen had, however, paid cash for his daughter's wedding gown. The seamstress who delivered it that morning had refused to accept a check...
...keep him below decks much of the time, poring over charts- an occupation that undoubtedly contributes to his mal de mer. "I don't see how Huey enjoys sailing," says an Ondine deck hand. "He's seasick all the time. During the whole Bermuda race, he only ate a couple of pieces of bread and drank a little water...
...within these limits we sometimes achieved with each other a freedom that was close to love. I remember, anyway, church suppers and outings, and, later, after I left the church, rent and waistline parties where rage and sorrow sat in the darkness and did not stir, and we ate and drank and talked and laughed and danced and forgot all about...