Word: franticness
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Last week over the links of the Old Flushing Country Club, L. I., a well-hit golf ball zoomed, struck unconscious one Edward Brown, 12, who was following his father's party around the course. Frantic, Dr. Brown carried his son to the street, was heartened by the offer of transportation from Building Commissioner John W. Moore, driving by at the moment. Mr. Moore drove a few minutes, stopped the car, got out, said: "I'm too nervous to drive. Take the car and go on." From the curb, he watched Dr. Brown drive off, collapsed, died...
Promptly three arrested suspects were placed in a line of 50 prisoners and Mr. Ruff, Mr. Rosenthal's son-in-law, was invited to identify them if he could. Frantic, he not only identified the men at once but begged the police to give him a gun that he might shoot them. A few hours afterwards the authorities announced that the three prisoners had been shot by the police as they endeavored to escape...
...this: with his stentorian auctioneer's voice he would bellow, snort and puff and a draw a crowd; well observed, he then swooped a blanket over his head, writhed, snored, groaned, popped forth drenched with sweat (even "on the coldest day") and cried out fresh news from Allah. Frantic scribes would hasten to scrawl his syllables, whether intelligible or not, upon palm leaves, leather, stones, bones, or the breasts of bystanders. Each utterance was a sura (verse); the collection became the Koran, a marvelous conglomeration of divine edicts, personal justifications of and promises to Mohammed, paraphrases of Jewish folklore...
Parisian editors were driven rumor-frantic by Mr. Mellon's secretive arrival. So certain were they that he would go to the Hotel Crillon and at once order "a New England boiled dinner" that two of the lesser journals reported he had done so. What did this unnatural-in-an-American conduct portend? Obviously a secret conference was to be held upon the Ile St. Louis. Cherchez le conference...
...Wall, n-a-ow, Cal's a candidate sure enough-he's fixing up his fences," jested the village quipster as frantic cameramen from behind the deadline laid by secret service men watched the shirt-sleeved President uprooting rotten posts, nailing industriously. Later Head Secret Serviceman Dick Jervis was sent to market for victuals. As he was getting into his car Mrs. Coolidge called "Oh, Mr. Jervis, don't forget to get two pounds of string beans...