Word: cherubically
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McLarnin-McGraw. James McLarnin, lightweight who has a cherub's face and wears a harp on his bathrobe, who knocked out Sid Terris with one punch but who couldn't lay a glove on Champion Samuel Mandell, feinted with his left last week in Madison Square Garden, then crossed his right to the retreating but tough chin of Phillip McGraw, lightweight from Marathon, Greece, knocking him through the ropes into the lap of one of the judges. McGraw climbed back, was knocked down three times more, after which, amid cries of "Stop it," Referee Dorman lifted Mc-Larnin...
...Rollin Kirby, acute cartoonist of the astute New York World, drew a picture of the Primary School, a one-room structure flying the U. S. flag. Out into the road, in sailor hat, buster brown collar, short trousers and socks, came a fattish cherub waving his report card at an old gentleman labelled G. 0. P. The cartoon was entitled: "Look, Daddy!" The cherub was labelled Hoover. The report card said...
When John William Davis, technical present-day head of the Democratic Party by virtue of his 1924 nomination, was a smiling cherub in a baby-basket at Clarksburg, West Va., another young male of that village was already romping lustily in the pantalettes of the period and beginning to play "soldiers." It was just after the Civil War, a martial moment. Young Guy Despard Goff, six years John Davis's senior, was sent to Kenyon Military Academy, up at Gambier, Ohio. Later he went to Harvard and became a lawyer, practicing in Boston first, then Milwaukee. Perhaps he wished...
...young woman dodged through the cordon of police at the palace gate, sprinting for the portal. She was Miss Prudence ("Cherub") Trotter, smart enfant terrible, daughter of august Sir Victor Murray Coutts Trotter, Chief Justice of the High Court of Madras. She brandished an appeal. It besought His Majesty to urge upon Parliament in his Speech from the Throne immediate passage of the bill giving votes to all women over 21. Miss Trotter, just 20, evidently did not know that the boon she craved had already been drafted into the text of the Speech from the Throne. Soon...
...seen edging, a few minutes late, into his box at polo, at the horseshow, at the theatre, at prizefights. Recognizing him at these events, casual acquaintances wonder when he finds time to do his work. They would probably fail to identify his round gay face of a somewhat sophisticated cherub with the intent, solemn, face which, late at night has been seen bending over Robert Clarkson's desk...