Word: cocked
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...Really to cast one's vote intelligently, one should follow party issues from far before the time that they become mere political slogans. Enthusiastic attendance at last minute discussions and oratorical contests is hardly sufficient to acquaint the average college listener with the bewildering vibrations of the political shuttle-cock as it bounces from farm relief to prohibition, from water power control to oil scandals. In a democracy, an educated man ought also to be an educated governor, and a college is remiss in a full performance of duty if it fails to equip its graduates with a working knowledge...
...symbol of France is a spunky, militant, land-lubbing Cock; but for one day last week Frenchmen raised the three-spiked Trident of sea power. For once the name of "Admiral of the Fleet"*Henri Salaun loomed on a momentary par with that of Marshal Ferdinand Foch. The occasion was twofold: first a review of the Grand Fleet, off Havre, and second the inauguration, at Havre, of the new docks and deep water basin-a prodigious puddle capable of accommodating simultaneously the two largest ships in the world, the Majestic and Leviathan...
...south shore of Cape Cod, to the purchaser at Marblehead. As they rounded the Cape a thick fog came on, and thinking they might have to drop the anchor quickly in the night they brought it aft, with the rope fast, and lashed it on the quarter by the cock-pit. When morning came, and they could see somewhat through the haze, they found themselves off Minot's Ledge instead of Marblehead. The anchor on the quarter had caused a deviation of the compass in the cock-pit; a result they had not foreseen. Of course no moral was involved...
...crow of the fighting cock is Porto Rico's national anthem, sung from early dawn to murmurous dusk by spur-legged game-birds tethered in squalid door-yards all over the island. On Sundays the national anthem is stilled. Those sacks you see the natives carrying along the white roads on Sunday morning contain the coxcomb choir. They are going to the cockpits, where a knife, a flask of bitter liquor, volleys of cheers and curses, the chink of coin, the spurt of dust and blood -not always fowl blood-spell life's zest for the brown-skinned...
Harvard might be tempted merely to sigh contemplatively, and cock one eye on the tablets in the locker house that once announced records as good as the best. Young blood, young vigor, seriousness in sports . . . all very well, for those who still play with the zest of youth; here at Harvard, a tired savoir faire is said to have taken their place. Harvard might, indeed, merely sigh, or even yawn, if this were true, but, sadly enough for the erudite gentlemen who delight in classifying the University and all its contents with one clever phrase, not all the instinct...