Word: grassed
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...monotone of grey, with occasional bursts of color. He is going faster, faster, faster. Faces loom up; they speak, but he hears them not, for he is imbued with the essence of spring. Swirling down out of his course to a peaceful rigidity, he buries his face in the grass, from which so recently the ice has melted; he giggles quietly to himself as the beauty of life is revealed to his soul. He is happy; he is bursting; he bursts...
...though his death in 1832 naturally deprived him of any possible acquaintance with the more important books of the nineteenth centuary American literature. One can imagine with amusement Goethe's reception of Walt Whitman. He might very well have been disturbed in his Olympian calm by reading "Leaves of Grass...
...Geiser concluded that a kingfisher must have carried the catfish aloft. Not even a climbing perch (Anabas scandens) could have shinnied up 40 ft. A small, dark green fish with dusky bands, the climbing perch inhabits Far Eastern estuaries and rivers. It can wrap its pectoral fins around grass stems, drag itself long distances. Why it wants to go overland, no one knows...
Principal cockfighting centres in the U. S. are at Stevenson and Uniontown. Ala.; Biloxi, Miss.; Little Rock; New Orleans; Bartlesville, Okla.; El Paso; Highlandtown, near Baltimore; Memphis; Lexington; the Sierra Game Club in Grass Valley, Calif.; Bismarck, Mo.; Grand Rapids; Newark; Aiken, S. C., where North and South Carolina breeders have been holding interstate mains for two centuries. Because cockfighting, though firmly established and thoroughly organized, needs to be furtively conducted, there are no precise statistics on the sport. Cockers estimate that 1,000 mains are held in the U. S. every year, that wagers, purses and admission fees amount...
...aging harlot is not likely to be much like a faun's afternoon. In A Day Off the blowzy heroine, just ditched by her last furtive provincial protector, blows in all her remaining shillings on a junket to Richmond Park, to have a nap on the grass. In the ladies' room she has luck enough to steal a purse, and when she gets home she finds a farewell present from George under her door. But she knows the jig is almost up. Authoress Jameson puts her to bed, watches her doze off. "The pulse in her arm lying...