Word: rakishly
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...arrive quickly" at his set goals. Yet last week the Papacy's official spokesman not only contradicted Il Duce's orders but clearly designated him by implication as "profane"−for Benito Mussolini travels about Italy chiefly and by preference at the wheel of his own low, rakish bellowing speed...
...written by two astute dramatists, A. E. Thomas (Come Out of the Kitchen, Only 38) and George Middleton (The House of a Thousand Candles, Potty with a Past), husband of Fola La Follette (pioneer Lucy Stoner, daughter of the late Senator "Fighting Bob" La Follette). Their goal was anti-rakish, antiseptic fun, and they achieved it. The heroine is a mid-western lass who hungers for romance and esthetics. In Venice she tumbles for an insolvent Frenchman whose family dates back to Charlemagne, who would innately prefer Santa Maria della Salute to the First Methodist. Her rubber-company father, distressed...
...nice to look at-a lean little body and all dressed up in rakish clothes that nobody had ever seen before. Men said she was fast; but she was no girl for rough weather. They sent her out to sea as a noble experiment. A week passed and they didn't hear from her whose name was Rofa, 50-foot schooner, smallest of four small schooners racing from Sandy Hook to Santander, Spain. Her rigging was peculiar-designed by Herreshoff, who learned about sails in Scandinavian fjords. On the morning of the seventh day out, she had covered...
...lines are low and rakish. The lower part of the body is green with a belt of yellow and-red striping around the door and window molding. The rear seat in the passenger compartment is large enough to accommodate three fares. There is a single folding seat in a recess well forward where the right hand forward seat of a pleasure car would come. The extra room gives the fourth passenger plenty of space for his legs . . . the running board is not wide enough to accommodate a trunk, nor is there any trunk rack in the rear...
...stress the foxlike guile of Mlle. Roseray's press-agent who had fooled all the clever reporters. The witty, wisecracking Walter Winchell, columnist to the pornoGraphic, gumchewers' sheetlet, alone had the grace, in this second and even less justified burst of free advertising, to praise that rakish, lean and sporting sheet, the New York Telegraph; its reporter had entirely disregarded the melodramatic antics of poor Mlle. Roseray...