Word: pocketfuls
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...pale sunrise colors. On desolate Antelope Island in the Southeastern corner of the lake the buffalo* herd slowly bestirred itself to test the morning air. Like shaggy brown mounds they looked in the dim light, lurching up lazily from sleep: here three cows and their calves in a grassy pocket gulch; here, in the broader valley, a scattered group of yearlings and dry cows; there, proudly alone, a burly young bull; there, ponderous and patriarchal, respectfully attended by his consorts, an old herd leader with a hump like a hillock, beard to the ground and the gleam of fretful...
...Watson said, 'So you have been an organizer in Wilmington? Have you your credentials?' I showed him this card. He said, 'Well, I have one similar,' and he took it from his pocket...
Another Wilson, this one C. A., in Houston, Tex., put a white rat in his pocket and got into a cage with a Bengal tiger. The enormous feline, striped with jungle shadow, smelled the trembling rodent in Trainer Wilson's pocket. Wilson was his friend, the rat his enemy. He stalked the rat, knocked Wilson down, struck savagely at the rat, wounded Wilson's side, tore Wilson's shoulder, was shot by zoo assistants. Wilson, wounded, recovered. The rat, unhurt, died of fright...
...wiry little man, flushed and fervent, reminded five Dominion premiers* and six Indian potentates,† of the might and glory that are Britannia's. The scene was "No. 10 Downing Street," famed residence of easy, genial, astute Premier Stanley Baldwin of Great Britain. But the fiery speaker, "The Pocket Hercules" who thundered Empire, was the Rt. Hon. Leopold C. M. S. Amery, Secretary of State for the Colonies. He it was who succeeded in vitalizing with emotional cohesion the third post-War Imperial Conference last week...
Washington, D.C., knew Sutter for years, enormously fat with age, gripping the Apocalypse in his pocket, supporting a parasitic swarm of lawyers until he had to shine shoes to support himself. It knew Carpenter Marshall of New Jersey, too, whose pickaxe pried loose Sutter's hellgate; Marshall escaped from his asylum once and dug filth from Washington's guttters, screaming, "There is gold everywhere, everywhere!" One June afternoon in 1880, old Sutter sat on the steps of the Capitol, pondering Justice. Malicious newboys ran up and told him that congress had just awarded him 100 millions of indemnity...