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Word: poundingly (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1960-1969
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Usage:

SEVERAL hundred of the blacks danced around us in a tremendous, floating wave of bodies as we slowly made our way toward Congo Square. Two hundred years ago, the local slaves were allowed by custom to dance in that square every Sunday. The slave drummers would pound out their ancestral rhythms while their brothers would chant and dance for a few hours of freedom...

Author: By Thomas A. Sancton, | Title: New Orleans Jazz Funeral Pounds Gaily for the Dead | 5/20/1969 | See Source »

...beat and pound for the dead...

Author: By Thomas A. Sancton, | Title: New Orleans Jazz Funeral Pounds Gaily for the Dead | 5/20/1969 | See Source »

Switching to catfish makes sound financial sense. The fish require less care than crops and bring their growers a fatter price per pound (400 to 500 live weight) than beef, pork or poultry. One of the first to discover the market was Edgar Farmer, 57, who stocked a pond ten years ago with a dozen "channel cats" that he had caught with a bamboo pole in the Arkansas River. Last year Farmer reaped $55,000 from 500 acres of catfish ponds. They are far more profitable than the 1,300 acres he devotes to rice, soybeans and subsidized cotton. Like...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Food: Catfish Harvest | 5/16/1969 | See Source »

...decade, Maclnnes has celebrated his city and its way-in outsiders in two fair novels and a third that is superb. The three have now been reissued after long neglect, enabling the reader to roam the nightside of London with Maclnnes. Such trips involve whispers, a confusion of lights, pound notes exchanging hands, presences, but most typically a shabby street that could never be found again and a plunge down a dim staircase. At the bottom, a door. Closed, heavy, guarding the Platonic idea of door. Inside, music, smoke, cadenced talk as pungent as the smoke, and with...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Epistle to the Mugs | 5/16/1969 | See Source »

...FIRST FEW days were miserable. Ten hours of ax-swinging is grueling work for a newcomer, and the olive green cans of C-rations and the soggy ground back at the campsite offer little solace. When fresh food shipments arrived, they contained a pound of butter and several quarts of apple juice per man, but only one piece of fresh meat. The men's bodies quickly became caked with accumulations of sweaty soot, but no one had the energy or the tolerance of cold to wash in the glacial streams at night. It became almost impossible to keep feet...

Author: By Mark W. Oberle, | Title: Why Not Let the Forests Burn? | 5/16/1969 | See Source »

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