Word: kerchiefed
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...clock on Oct. 17, during a heavy cannonading from the American guns, Washington's men saw a British drummer mount the enemy's parapet. His beating could not be heard for the cannon; but, when a British officer climbed up beside him waving a white kerchief, it became evident the drummer was sounding a parley. All around the lines firing ceased; the British officer was blindfolded and led behind the American lines where General Washington received Lord Cornwallis' request that hostilities be suspended and a joint commission be named to draw up terms of surrender...
...courtship of Coolidge was unique. . . . He laid much confidence on the power of propinquity, sitting and silence. . . . When the hour ripened for action, he gently spread a kerchief upon the carpeted floor on Maple Street. . . . He confided to her alone that Fate had pointed to the Presidency for him. . . . She replied in a monosyllable: 'Yes.' . . . Asked once by a representative of the press for the romance of her marriage, Grace Goodhue Coolidge replied: 'Have you ever seen my husband?' . . . If Grace Anna Goodhue Coolidge has ever deplored her decision, she has had too much loyalty to the President to betray...
...sometimes effete children of Beacon Street, when they loll in dinner jackets, or decollate and lapis lazuli." "Cal he was, Cal he is." "Fate pointed the path and the country lost a Chief-Justice but found a President." When proposing to Miss Goodhue "he gently spread a kerchief upon the carpeted floor on Maple Street. With characteristic foresight even then he sought to protect his right pant, for trousers were not in those days worn in Burlington, as he knelt before his "ideal." "The family might with some reason adopt as its crest the Cal-la Lily." (This...
...find yourself free from the character-racking conventionalities of our useless modern civilization. His greatest admirers were his worst defaulters. Tolstoi, Gorki, etc. filched his work and vulgarized it, as did our very original, potent-seeming Bernard Shaw. But who cares for the fabric of a well monogramed kerchief...
...handkerchief at once. It is now to be seen at the Loan Exhibition in Washington." I suppose I told this story with unwonted fervor, for, as I bent tenderly toward her (Lardy was looking), she burst into a flood of tears, and handed me the dripping pocket-hand-kerchief. This I surreptitiously wrung in a corner, and bestowed in my coat-pocket. Before I left that evening she had appointed the day for our marriage, and I had made an eternal enemy of Lardy. As we marmaladed out to Cambridge that evening, he wouldn't say a word...