Word: knifing
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...heaven. Looking about him, Ivan Skripnik chose young Gregory Romashevsky to act as this messenger. Romashevsky blanched but accepted, prepared to die. He lay down on the table in the mean wooden house that serves the Johnists for a church. By his head was laid an old butcher knife, carefully sharpened...
...long face before important contests, particularly in the presence of newspapermen. If someone speaks of a Gildobian atmosphere, it doesn't require any diagram for a normal college student to know that that is a short way of saying "the gloom is thick enough to cut with a knife." And yet, on the opposite end of the scale, it would be doing Farrell an injustice to declare that his optimism is of the Pollyana sort. Mingle with the athletes and you will understand what I mean...
...laying a goodly number of eggs, then under the blue cloak a selection of bottles, or of sweetmeats, or of eggs would be borne to a friend's house, where for an hour the old man sat in dignity, and calm, opening and closing his eyes and his jack-knife; uttering meanwhile detached remarks, wise, gruff, biting, yet seldom lacking a kernal of kindness, till bedtime came, nine o'clock, and he was gone, the gifts--if thanks were feared--left in a chair by the door...
...Muller, her friend and neighbor, and Landlady Hanner all in court. It was charged that Lady Strabolgi and Neighbor Muller had, "to wit?struck, thrown about and kicked'' not only Mrs. Hanner, but also her daughter Joyce, who had gone to her mother's rescue with a bread knife...
...poor and thrifty citizens who would ordinarily vote Laborite. Perhaps some of them will now gratefully vote Conservative. Therefore the angry Labor pixie spat at Conservative Churchill that his latest opus was a "Brib-ery Budget!" After that-cripple or no cripple-it was Parliamentary war to the knife. Not unnaturally, Mr. Churchill, a man of flesh and gusto, who looks as if he had never spent a sick day in his life, watched keenly for a chance to catch his enemy off guard. Swaying on his canes, Mr. Snowden worked himself up to a pitch of spleen, harked back...