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Word: moistly (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
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Usage:

...already had some experience in Anglo-American relations. Once Portland entertained Lord and Lady Halifax; Mayor Riley sent an official car to take Lady Halifax to a luncheon. The official car turned out to be an old Chevrolet, driven by a shirt-sleeved policeman slightly moist with heat and embarrassment. Relieved to find the Mayor's wife in Lady Halifax' party, the policeman struck up a lengthy conversation...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: CITIES: Meet the Mayor | 9/13/1943 | See Source »

...plant on top of the packed soil and threw a little dirt on its roots. Within 24 hours every plant stood up straight. The source of this idea was an old textbook picture of a seedbed. Faulkner noticed that while the seedbed was dry, a heelprint in it looked moist; from this he developed his theory that the soil's capillarity (its ability to draw moisture from below) is improved if it is packed rather than loose...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Science: Down With the Plow | 7/26/1943 | See Source »

...syrup (to supplement corn and maple syrups), made by concentrating the juice of fallen and cull apples to honey-thickness, was announced by the U.S. Department of Agriculture's Research Laboratory at Philadelphia. But its first wide use is industrial: to replace war-scarce glycerin for keeping tobacco moist...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Science: Food Front | 5/10/1943 | See Source »

Percy Is Pained. Now about 47, Miss Nichols is a soft-voiced, moist-eyed, zoftig (means what it sounds like) blonde with a reputation for good will and the buying of drinks for the house. After turning out Hollywood scripts at $10 apiece, Miss Nichols decided to write herself a real acting part. She produced an earnest work called Humanity which made Brooklyn audiences split their sides. A dozen plays (including Linger Longer Letty) later. Miss Nichols hit a gusher with Abie's Irish Rose...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Radio: So Rich the Rose | 5/3/1943 | See Source »

...walked unsteadily to the window. Raising it a bit, he sniffed the moist, cold air outside. Coughing violently, he slammed it shut and wound his weary way back to bed, being careful not to catch his white woolen bedsocks on the steel bedspring as he buried himself again under the warm covers...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: THE VAGABOND | 2/17/1943 | See Source »

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