Word: kennelful
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...Brucie, coal-black cocker spaniel owned by Herman E. Mellenthin of Poughkeepsie, N. Y.: the Westminster Kennel Club best-in-show, crowning glory in a dog's life; for the second year in a row; outshining 2,547 rivals; at Manhattan's Madison Square Garden. With rosettes aplenty, five-year-old Brucie will show no more, "except where he never has been shown before." >Dimpled Mary Rose Thacker, 18, of Winnipeg: the biennial North American ladies' figure skating championship; for the second successive time; by a wide margin over Toronto's Eleanor O'Meara...
Brandishing his .38-calibre pistol fearsomely upon his belated arrival from Manhattan, Asbestos Boy Tommy Manville discovered that neither searchlights on the terraces, a siren on the roof, dogs in the kennel, or five lurking guards, had prevented burglars from cracking a safe on his whopping New Rochelle, N. Y. estate and snaffling $7,500 in cash, $500 in gold plate...
Harvard men, thick as locusts in China, descended on Yale last weekend. Cambridge was left a deserted village while, by Pullman and by thumb, the Crimson supporters swarmed south to New Haven. Well might the bulldog have retired into his Kennel and watched the hordes go by. But the portals of every Gothic structure were thrown wide open in welcome. House football teams were provided with bed, board, and dance tickets. Soccer and touch football men got like treatment. And inter-House dining privileges were honored in "brother" colleges to the Harvard Houses...
Then became apparent the weak point in Italy's naval policy. That country went in for super-fast battleships with thin skins, to raid and run, never stand and fight. And now Sir Andrew caught these greyhounds in kennel. As he plowed with his whole force after dark into the Gulf of Taranto, his advance scouts in the Strait of Otranto caught a convoy going to Porto Edda,* Albania, with supplies. They sank one ship outright, fired and probably sank two others, damaged one of the two escorting destroyers, which...
Within a minute, Landlord Schmidt heard eight loud explosions near List. He saw spouting pillars of fire. Then he heard the Sylt sirens start wailing, and searchlights shot up to finger the sky. Anti-aircraft guns started barking like a kennel of mastiffs aroused in the night. As the two bombers roared south, away from him down the length of Sylt, Herr Schmidt could hear other long-muzzled watchdogs take up the furious chorus...