Word: heeled
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...intricate bit of landscape at its pinnacle of horticultural impeccability right up to the great moment, it only remained lor the head keeper to waft his sickle at a few imaginary shoots of twitch grass, for the chairman of the greens committee to make efficient little dents with his heel in the sleek turf of the first tee, and for a few bag-shirted "guineas" to roam through the dusk, disconsolate but faithful in their contemplation of water-lilies that sprang up from slippery rubber stalks on the more pallid putting greens...
...hailed him for his triumph. He would make it now, right enough. Gad, he was only a half-mile from shore. But the swimmer turned upon his encouragers eyes darkened and guttering. He was a lost man now, though they did not know it; he was drowned head and heel in black water, the fathomless seas of fatigue. The tide set its knee in his chest and pushed him back toward France. Once he was only 600 yards from shore; but then for 30 yards he was borne back, unable to move his arms. Abruptly, with a tremendous agony...
What if a wight named Tell should win a shooting match? Or one called Nero should give violin concerts? Or some Greek christened Achilles die of blood poisoning in the heel? Almost as fine a day for lovers of coincidence occurred one day last week, when The New York Times headlined: DR. JOHNSON TO EDIT DICTIONARY, referring to crisp, diffident Dr. Allen Johnson* of Yale University and the Dictionary of American Biography, the production of which the Times has underwritten (TIME, Dec. 22, THE PRESS...
...Chaplin put them on, cocked his battered derby over his ear, twisted the ends of his prim mustache. His face was very sad. He attempted a jaunty walk which became, inevitably, a heart-breaking waddle. He put his hand on the seat of his trousers, spun on his heel. Arbuckle told him that he was almost funny. Such was the research that led him to "create a figure that would be a living satire on every human vanity...
Rivers of assorted drinkables gurgled down his gullet. When drunk, his behavior was colorful. Vainglorious, he would swagger the streets, throwing handfuls of small silver to the ragamuffins following at heel. Sentimental, he would warble Go Tell Aunt Rhody or Oh White, White Moon. Belligerent, he would ravish a saloon, break all the glassware, splendidly pay for it next day. He put on flesh...