Word: ated
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Dixon made "the lads" take off their underwear, tear it into strips which soaked up the rain and could be squeezed into an oar pocket. The next morning Aldrich used the pocketknife to spear a fish which "looked something like what we used to call a pumpkin perch. We ate the liver, all the innards and some of the flesh...
With My Crossbow. That night an albatross landed on the raft. Aldrich killed it with the pistol and Dixon, the only one who could swim, dived overboard and retrieved it. The men ate the organs and the entrails, but put the unplucked flesh away to save. In the night it glowed with phosphorescence and Dixon threw it overboard. That was a tough thing to do. But during the night it rained again. "The drawers worked fine," Dixon said. "We all had a good drink...
...toured Germany as a violinist until she ruined her wrist in a train wreck; helped get out a Socialist news paper in South Germany until the outbreak of World War I; took lovers, of whom the best one fell in Belgium; befriended a lonely archduchess and nursed and under-ate throughout the war; had two children, one by a man who was not her husband; beheld and took part in the miseries of German post-war democracy; was sent to Soviet Russia as a skillful toymaker and there married a U.S. industrialist; got eyefuls and skinfuls of U.S. boomtime living...
...kids in Walgreen's ate it up. They became not only Actors Cues readers but legmen as well. By last week Actors Cues claimed, a little wildly, that it had got actors 500 jobs. Shull had become a one-man clearinghouse, with scouts hunting him up and producers giving him their casting lists. In addition, Editor Shull had organized playwrighting and acting classes for his flock, wangled hundreds of free theater tickets for them, laid plans to get them an eating-and meeting-place of their own and, above all, an experimental theater. (A benefit dance last week netted...
Ralph Delair stayed in the fields until the sun had sunk over the low hills in the west. Then he milked his cow again, fed his stock, covered the tractors for the night, ate a supper of roast beef, potatoes, biscuits. When the dark came, he was in the old-fashioned sitting room off the kitchen, smoking his pipe, listening to the radio, reading what old William Allen White had to say about weather and politics in the Emporia Gazette. At 9:30 he was in bed, sound asleep, not hearing the stinging Kansas wind whipping the darkened house...