Word: greyed
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1920-1929
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...bower, a summer-home on the northeastern end of Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park, Montana. He owns two-thirds of an acre with a 150-foot lake frontage, purchased from the holder of the original land patent before the park was created in 1910. Last week the grey Walsh mustache bristled more ferociously than ever as he did legislative battle in defense of his summer hearthstone and of a governmental principle...
...hour. . . . The scientists, in short, got a long way from the short man rapidly walking down a broad street. They had noted details. The short man was perhaps 5 ft. 4 in. tall; he weighed 145 Ibs.; wore unpolished black leather half-shoes, black lisle socks, a grey tweed suit, a taupe-colored felt hat pulled down over his bespectacled hazel eyes. His black, curly hair was awry and needed cutting. His hands were in his pockets, with one nickel, one dime and one quarter. Other people of other descriptions were milling and bumping around him with other gaits. Traffic...
...class sleeping car, accompanied only by Sir Godfrey Thomas, his private secretary. Together they tramped over to the Station Hotel, unwelcomed, unescorted, and there they took a room and sitting room, bathed, breakfasted. Just as the station clock neared nine, Edward of Wales drew on capacious rubbers, donned a grey checked overcoat, struggled into a great black ulster with an astrakhan collar, clapped a bowler (derby) on his head, and was off by limousine to inspect in three days slightly over 100 bleak, grimy villages. Appropriately a driving snow swirled about the royal car and patriotic British correspondents wired...
...Where's Mr. McKay's cottage?" cried Challengee Wales. The white-faced, starveling villagers pointed. He climbed the muddy stoop, rapped on the sleasy door. "Come in!" cried a child's voice, and H. R. H. entered to find two weeping little girls beside the bed of a grey-haired woman who lay stark and motionless. "Dead!" croaked a villager, "Starved?an' Old Frank 'as gone for 'er coffin...
...Panama Canal, last week, the U. S. Battle Fleet held its Winter maneuvers. The grey, lowering ships formed precise patterns on the rolling waters. Blue-coated, brass-buttoned tacticians directed and studied these patterns. Now the vessels drove ahead in files, now they spread out in phalanges. Twenty airplanes were catapulted from the decks, droned ahead to find the "enemy." They returned to report; the patterns were changed. Certain formations meant probable success, others probable disaster. Smoke billowed from funnels, gigantic guns stirred in their turrets, officers peered through their binoculars, made marks on charts, hoisted shining flags and sent...