Word: gaped
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Newshawks demanded an inspection of The Beeches. At first Mrs. Comey refused them entrance. Mrs. Coolidge explained: "Really, it's Mrs. Comey's home still." Later Mrs. Comey relented, led 14 newsmen through the house, let them gape at the wine cellar in the basement, the billiard room in the attic, the sweeping outlook across meadowlands to Mount Holyoke and Mount Tom. The press inspectors rode up and down in the self-operating house elevator, stared speculatively at the outdoor swimming pool and tennis court, strolled through the ivory-tinted living room, the pinkish dining room, the bedroom...
This conception of the University as a vast hive of little brain cells has of course great value as an antidote for the football, pleasure and leisure mad undergraduate. Before many the academic muse can only gape, sigh, and pass on. For these even the shining example of France is of no avail. All that is left to those who scorn the battle of the books is the "paradise of the shirker and the drifter". An examination, of this paradise would be interesting. To the casual observer it might well be summarized by a rough sketch depicting Don Juan...
...women (not children) who stopped to gaze and gape were hailed from the doorway by a clerk. Shouted he. though a traffic policeman was on duty less than 50 feet distant: "Come in friends! We're selling wide open! Just got $30,000 worth of stuff...
...afternoon last week at Aberdeen Proving Ground (Md.), a fringe of people stood behind a hemp rope. A soldier passed down the line proffering a roll of cotton batting. The people were advised to stuff bits of the cotton into their ears, stand on their toes, gape their mouths. A moment later there broke forth from eight sinister-nosed 75mm. anti-aircraft guns a maddening, vicious cacaphony that made trouser-legs tremble and skirts sway in waves of force. High in the bright ceiling, some 2,000 ft. above, innocent bits of cotton appeared, no bigger than those...
...flyer who last week saved Farmer Walter Schiffer's home at Evansville, Ind. from burning. The barn and smokehouse had burned to earth, the granary was throwing its flames at the house. Neighbors were carrying furniture and gear outdoors. Then-the flyer appeared. All stopped to gape while he, intelligent, flew between house and granary 40 times, fanning the flames against the wind until they died down. Then off he went about his own business...