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Word: poring (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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Usage:

...friend, it is too true," confided the mysterious, grey-bearded hitchhiker aboard Huckleberry Finn's raft, "your eyes is lookin' at the very moment on the pore disappeared Daughin, Looy the Seventeen, son of Looy the Sixteen and Marry Antonette . . . You see before you, in blue jeans and misery, the wanderin', exiled trampled-on, and sufferin' rightful King of France...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: FRANCE: Lost or Found | 10/16/1950 | See Source »

LeMay loved flying (has since logged 7,000 hours), but he was no comic-strip fly boy. While his classmates swooped off for weekends in Los Angeles, he often hung back to take engines apart, work at machine guns, pore over weather charts and navigation logarithms. Result: after seven years in fighters, he was called from Hawaii to fly the first of the Army's Flying Fortresses because he was the rare Army airman who could find his way around with a navigator's sextant and chart. From then on his career was set as a big-plane...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Background For War: MAN IN THE FIRST PLANE | 9/4/1950 | See Source »

...should be done in case of atomic attack. Few of them had either Tom Dewey's budget, General Clay, or a solicitous phone call from Washington. About the best they could do was talk it over with the police and fire departments, draw up a sheaf of diagrams, pore over what they read in the newspapers, and wait uneasily until Washington was ready to tell them what...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: National Affairs: Waiting for September | 8/14/1950 | See Source »

First Voice--"I reckon we better say something' over pore...

Author: By Donlad Carswell, | Title: The Outlaw | 1/13/1950 | See Source »

Soot filled every pore, inflamed the eyes, lodged in the scrotum and caused the horrid "sooty-wart" or "chimney sweeper's cancer." Many boys were made consumptive by the lack of food, the damp cellars where they slept on soot-bags, and the chill of early mornings when they tramped the streets crying, "Sweep for the soot O! Sweeeup!" at the top of their poor, frayed lungs...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Poor Blots | 7/11/1949 | See Source »

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