Word: faster
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Dates: during 1870-1879
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...time of the six-oar crews was astonishingly fast, being it is said more than a minute faster than the fastest class-crew shell time, and yet the crews rowed in laps twenty-six inches broad and carried coxswains. In taking the time, there were two stop-watches used, and one made the time about a minute longer than that given above; but the referee decided the official time according to the most reliable...
...Athletic Association succeeded in teaching many men to run faster and for longer distances. There have, to be sure, been a few who have been in training for the races, and they may have made better time than before; still the improvement is confined to a small number. An easy saunter to Porter's or Mt. Auburn is what most men still mean by "taking a walk," and any one who has walked to Belmont or Arlington or the Waverly Oaks considers that he is quite justified in boasting of his prowess to his friends. Not that we mean...
...near-sighted, but discovered her mistake afterwards. I began soon after that to take a regular shave, at first once a month, then gradually the interval was diminished to a fortnight, a week, and finally half a week. The more I cut off the down the faster and thicker it grew; and as I am averse to all duties that have to be performed regularly, I soon conceived a great prejudice against my mustache, and read all the medical books I could get hold of, to see if there was no antidote against it. I did not want...
...round till these are emptied, when, substituting glasses of smaller size, they begin their matches. One of their amusements is to raise their glasses at the same time, and drink in such perfect unison that, on setting them down, they say, "One, two, three," together. If any one drinks faster than the rest, or, in order to shout, sets his glass down before it is emptied, he pays for the company on the following trial. Next comes a song in which the chorus is intermingled with the striking of the glasses together. They generally keep up the bout till...
...whipping the galloping brute. My eye-glasses shake off, and become a total wreck in the bottom of the gig. The sun is very hot and the road is dusty. (I anathematize Jenkins for advising me to come to Norway.) The more I pull on the reins the faster the horse goes. Despair! After two hours of misery we come to a town; the horse stops of his own accord, and I descend to terra firma more dead than alive...