Word: planked
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Rank still counts: this particular camp, in which only officers are allowed, is ruled by the ranking officer with the severe discipline, the stiff etiquette, of the regular army. To pass the time the prisoners write novels, play soundless music on a plank painted like the keyboard of a piano, compose invisible petitions on imaginary typewriters. Amateur theatricals turn the whole camp into a burrow of homosexuality. When the Russian Revolution and the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk come, the prisoners plan an escape en masse, nearly run into a massacre, are thankful to get back to their safe prison again...
...brought the properties-the locomotive, cars and station.* Into the deaf inventor's ear he shouted welcome.† He was Friend Henry Ford. This was only Stage-Setter Ford's prolog. Proudly he led Mr. Edison to a building nearby, the inventor's oldtime laboratory, every plank and gadget of which had been brought to Dearborn, Mich., from Menlo Park, N. J. Ruminantly chewing tobacco as he inspected, Edison scuffed the dirt floor with his toe. "Why, Henry's even got that damn New Jersey clay here," he marveled. There later was to be staged...
...important plank in the British Labor Government's election platform was the resumption of diplomatic relations with Russia. Negotiations toward that end were started between grizzled British Foreign Secretary Arthur Henderson and unctuous Soviet Ambassador to France Valerian Devgalevsky. Because of Britain's insistence that Russia give definite promise to cease Communist propaganda in the British Empire before ambassadors be appointed. Russian insistence that her national dignity demanded an exchange of ambassadors before discussing definite points of agreement, negotiations were quickly deadlocked (TIME, Aug. 5). Russia's Devgalevsky packed his briefcases, went back to France. Said Plump...
...that," said Commodore Trunnion. "Why not?" asked his wife. "Because I'm not mad," said the Commodore. "Prove it," said Mrs. Trunnion. And this he could not do. Instead, he put her off his ship, made her walk the plank in fact, and went back to his old way of living with Hatchways, his mate, and Fawcett, an able seaman...
Prime Minister's limousine and peasant's cart plunged side by side down the road for 20 yards, the peasant sawing at his horses' mouths, shouting bristling Bulgarian obscenities in a voice like the ripping of an oak plank. Finally with his horses but not his temper under control, the farmer pulled a big, black, Balkan pistol from his waistband, punctuated his curses with bullets. Shots riddled the windshield and the rear windows of the Liaptcheff car. Only by sliding prudently to the floor did Bulgaria's Prime Minister keep his skin whole...