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Word: fleshed (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1920-1929
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Usage:

...forth as great a variety of answers as the famous John Hancock riddle. To the College Office, he is merely a bit of machinery in a complex system, like the time-clock of a business establishment. To the individual in the course, he represents the frailties of the human flesh, to be plied with the wine of excuse and entreaty until his will is bent to the individual's purpose. The storm of hard-luck stories and heart-appeals that daily besiege a monitor's ear would do credit to a Hollywood composition course. And it is the sternest...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: PUNCH THE TIME-CLOCK | 10/30/1922 | See Source »

...dancing. Certain critics bewail the inactivities of that generally superfluous character, the censor. Far be it from us to criticise the critics, but one may ask if a bare log is not more artful and less crude than the suggestiveness of one covered by a fraction of soiled flesh-colored tights...

Author: By J. R. P. n., | Title: THE CRIMSON BOOKSHELF | 10/25/1922 | See Source »

...equivocal character; one of those nondescript animals of the ocean that are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl . . . . somewhat of a trader, something more of a smuggler, with a considerable dash of the pickaroon . . . this cutpurse of the ocean...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: COMMENT | 6/23/1922 | See Source »

...shapeless little person, who, somehow, reminded one of an inferior dried fig;" "Benny Dodd's Adventure", with its O. Henry climax; "It!", full of pathetic, sodden shoes; and "Spring Scandal", peppered with potentially horrifying gossip such as, "That be a pore creature, the Queen o'Spain, Oi rackon. No flesh. No substance. No curl"--are pretty near perfection in their...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: THE CRIMSON BOOKSHELF REVIEWS | 5/12/1922 | See Source »

...cold winter's evening, and imagine one's self lolling on the "paepae" of some picturesque Marquesan hut, listening to the chatter of Exploding Eggs, the native valet, and Chief Seventh Man Who Is So Angry He Wallows in The Mud, than it would be to explore in the flesh those far-away places, to broll under the tropic sun, flee from the shark and the enraged swordlish, or suffer the stings of the "nones" in deserted Haapa, where the last dregs of the Typee race wait for death to release them. One even half-suspects that the beauty...

Author: By D. W. B., | Title: THE CRIMSON BOOKSHELF - REVIEWS - JOTS AND TITLES | 1/21/1921 | See Source »

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