Word: clad
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1950-1959
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...massed band, from whose front line of trumpeters fluttered scarlet banners and golden tassels, struck up a martial air. Rain had canceled the air flypast, and Party Secretary Khrushchev, clad in a fawn raincoat and bright green hat, had stolen some of the show by escorting attractive Ekaterina Furtseva, a Moscow party official, to the podium. But now, after the trumpets, Zhukov, with all the pomp and ceremony which the occasion demanded, went to center stage to deliver the official speech...
...look on hungry faces when the soup ran out. When she went to her first job at 15, she remembers her mother calling after her: ". . . And don't come home until you join the union!" Bessie early dedicated herself to getting Liverpool's vermin-ridden, shivering, shawl-clad women and gaunt men out of their slums and into decent dwelling places...
...last week a 28-year-old Shakta named Odia Patel, clad only in a loincloth, walked into a magistrate's office in Bali, a district of Rajasthan in Northwest-Central India. In his hand he held a severed human nose and a bloodstained knife. Said he: "This is my wife's nose. I cut it off because she was unfaithful to me. And this is the knife I used...
...Clad in grey mufti and the warm glow that radiates from a consummation long and devoutly wished, Admiral the Earl Mountbatten of Burma ("Dickie" to his friends) appeared at the Admiralty in London and took office as Britain's First Sea Lord. The last First Sea Lord to steer H.M.'s Navy from the green-walled room Mountbatten chose as his office was his father, Prince Louis of Battenberg, who was forced to" resign at the outbreak of World War I, after 45 years of devoted naval service, because of public outcry over his German birth. Though...
Almost every morning for the last 22 years, a self-effacing little man, careless-clad in baggy pants and a blue stocking cap, stepped down from the front porch of a modest frame house at 112 Mercer Street, Princeton, N.J., and trudged off to the Institute for Advanced Studies. At a glance, the little man could have been the caretaker or a gardener. He puffed meekly at his pipe; he sidled in quietly; he seldom spoke unless spoken to. But on a second look, a rare quality seemed to glow in that sad and wizened face, with its disordered halo...