Word: crept
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There had come a lull. Creatures crept from wreckage. They pawed dazedly over tangled debris, stumbled on dead monster fishes, sought kin-bodies. Down in the harbor the waves scarcely abated- wrenched, tore, harried, sank ships. Over in rich idle Hollywood, one lone building, the Masonic Temple, stood drunkenly. As if enraged by such impertinence, the hurricane struck again...
Early one morning last week a fishing smack trailed by a rowboat -routine indications of a channel swimmer-appeared in St. Margaret's Bay, England. As they crept toward shore a little Frenchman, perhaps the swimmer's trainer, was seen gesticulating in the bow of the rowboat. He seemed afraid that his aspirant would fail in the last 200 yards and kept shouting, "Think of your mother. Think of your father. Think of your wife." The man in the water, who was thinking of a double whisky, swam sturdily...
...from an altitude sufficient to test a combination parachute and buoyant belt he had invented. Pilots old and pilots young refused to budge. To them the device did not look practical. Last week, however, Senor Arango found his man, clambered joyfully into a cockpit, waved goodbye to watching thousands, crept out on the plane's wing tip at 3,000 feet, stepped backwards into empty air. The parachute clung to his back like a bad dream, unopened. The Gulf of Mexico rolling absently splashed once. Rescuers found no whole bone* in Senor Arango's corpse...
...could get ten back if that unruly horse was first. Maiben, up on Crusader, let an inch of rein slip through his hands; the huge horse lunged forward; Mars, his courage broken, slipped behind; only Espino hung on. Inch by inch, his jockey scissoring like a swimming frog, Espino crept up, passed Crusader, won the $26,100 Lawrence Realization...
Last week, sunbeams crept softly through the penitentiary bars, glistened on tears of joy in the eyes of Mr. Langley, who was composing a telegram to his darling, Spouse Langley. His words flowed like a dream in the Vale of Tempe: "I am supremely happy. Even these grey prison walls seem to shine with the lustre of our beloved Cumberland and Blue Ridge. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. May He bless and keep always the good men and women and all our children of the Kentucky Mountains. My love and greetings...