Word: ear
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...silver-haired, mountainous (6 ft. 3 in.) Mr. Jones turned the cold greenish eyes of his poker face to his enemies, warded off unlikely questions with a "Huh?" and heard only what he wanted to hear through his good right ear. Said he: "Of course we look out for protection of the Government. That's our job. We see that the contracts protect the United States...
...efficiently combated. Evolutionary changes, which only careful comparison can verify, have appeared in some species since the type specimen was first chosen, a century or two ago. And, though any curator can catch a Musca domestica (or housefly) in his own soup, he would probably give his right ear to have the original type. Among other items selected for bomb-sheltering from the Smithsonian collection (valued at $300,000,000 but irreplaceable, says one of its officers, at three times that figure...
...among the machines, spitting tobacco juice, profanity and ideas. These are Detroit's production men, fresh up from the ranks, a trace of grease still under their stubby fingernails. They know machines as only men can who have handled them. They are the men who play by ear, with near-perfect pitch. With dog-eared notebooks, pencil stubs and know-how they work out production problems that no textbook could solve...
...patient was suspected of heart disease. But, because she was fat, female and modest, the doctor could not put his ear to her chest-and how else could he listen to her heart? Dr. René Théophile Hyacinthe Laënnec rolled a sheet of paper into a tube and held it against her chest. The heart noises came through perfectly to his respectfully distant ear...
...Creek (Book-of-the-Month Club selection for April) is her reminiscent, unhurried, humorous account of how she discovered and took possession of a new U.S. literary landscape (Florida), a new literary folk (the Florida backwoods people) and the Cracker idiom whose Shakespearean and Chaucerian turns struck her sensitive ear, when she first heard them, like a blow. Above all, Cross Creek is a prose poem about the deceptively monotonous Florida land, whose deceptively soft-spoken people have become merely its human adaptation...