Word: horned
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...bustling rotunda of London's King's Cross station, a stocky, grim-faced little man strode briskly through the hurrying crowds this week, peering at the passing faces through horn-rimmed glasses. A few old hands at the station nodded recognition, and the word, went around: "Mr. Sutherland is back again." John L. Sutherland, 70, a Vancouver cement contractor, was back at King's Cross for the sixth time looking for his son, who is officially reported dead...
...this point, the Yard began to express some curiosity about John Christie. Most everybody remembered him-a thin, high-domed fellow who wore horn-rimmed glasses, worked somewhere as a trucking clerk, liked to take photographs of Netting Hill kiddies in the streets and Notting Hill chippies in their bareskins. "Always so polite and neatly dressed," said Mrs. Rose Bangle. ". . . Never passed a lady in the street without raising his hat." Checking back, the police found that John Christie had been the principal government witness in the case of his tenant-predecessor Tim Evans; near the end of his trial...
...among the barns About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home, In the sun that is young once only, Time let me play and be Golden in the mercy of his means, And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold, And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams...
...program opened with Bechoven's Second Symphony-aside from the poor horn playing, a through satisfying rendition. The orchestra achieved dynamic contrasts, and the whole performance was well-disciplined, without being stiff...
Early in January, in Caracas, a bull drove a horn into Dominguín's upper right thigh, almost severing the big muscle in front of the bone. The wound, his eighth and worst, required an operation, performed in Mexico. Last week, still convalescing, he prepared to open the season in Bogotá. Over breakfast with a few friends, he mused, "I once loved bullfighting like madness. Now I've lost the joy of fighting. That's when fatal things happen. Today I'll make twelve, thirteen, fourteen thousand dollars-but it doesn't seem...