Word: golfed
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...reverse might be partially, explained by the hilly Princeton course which winds about the campus for a mile, then makes two circuits of the golf course by the graduate school, follows the Raritan canal loepath for a mile, and ends back on the campus with a stiff half-mile up-grade...
...press, the subject of discussion was the President's World Court proposal, the suggestion that it might split the Republican Party. Interspersed with this matter were accounts of the President's vacationing in Florida?his trips aboard the Pioneer (the houseboat of Edward B. McLean), his foursomes at golf with Mr. McLean, Albert D. Lasker (the then Chairman of the Shipping Board), and Charles G. Dawes (the former Director of the Budget). Before the vacation was over, Harry M. Daugherty, Attorney General, caused...
...theatre? Did you paint the scenery and write the plays? Well, I did; and, like Mr. Lincoln, I kept it up until I was ashamed to have people know I played with such toys. However, Mr. Lincoln has little time for hobbies these days, with the possible exception of golf. He works sincerely and hard for six or eight months on a novel; and for Rugged Water he did considerable research, going back and talking to some of the old guards, gathering details and anecdotes from them. That is probably why he has succeeded in creating so admirably the tense...
...rounded by his family, after singing favorite hymns with his pastor and saying : "I have put up the best fight I could." Forgan is one of the old names in St. Andrews, Scotland. James Berwick Forgan was born there, one of six chil dren of Robert Forgan, maker of golf clubs and balls. After an education at Madras College (St. Andrews) and Forres Academy (Forres), where his uncle was long rector, Mr. Forgan was dissuaded from a predilection for the Law by another uncle, who apprenticed him to the banking profession. Three years' training, and he was accepted...
...golf ball soared through the night. Stars twinkled overhead, night winds sighed as the ball landed, bounded, rolled up on a putting green unaccustomed to such nocturnal visitations. On the green, the ball moved steadily toward, was swallowed up by, a dark little shadow-the hole. No fairy-flight nor golfer's fevered dream, this. Back in the direction from which the ball had come, 246 yards over hump and hummock, stumpy little Gene Sarazen, onetime U. S. open champion, grinned and chaffed with many bystanders as he cracked out other balls into the night from the first...