Word: shoutedly
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...last fall was quickly decided. Lewis appeared, his back well bandaged; soon he was lying limp on those bandages. The heavyweight title had passed to Wayne Munn. The crowd went "mad-dog," scrambled on its seats, shook the rafters of Convention Hall as it screeched, boomed, barked salvos of shouts for the victor. Many sportsmen caterwauled at the dejected figure with the bowed head in the centre of the ring. A yokel was heard to shout: "You big bum, I hope you're hurt...
...teur matador. The bull charged. That matador took a single deliberate step aside. The bull hammered past. Into his path again stepped the matador. He danced, he mocked, he swung his scarlet cloak. But this bull was a thief, as they say; he "knew Latin." Drumming hoofs, a broken shout, a thud. "Maria. He is dead!" gasped the onlookers. So ended the last bullfight of Ignacio Zuloaga*, famed Spanish painter...
...golden prize-the bantamweight championship of the world. One was a Jewish gamecock from Harlem-Champion Abe Goldstein; one was an Italian gamecock from Brooklyn-Challenger "Cannonball" (Eddie) Martin. For 15 rounds the pecking, the strutting, went fiercely on. Then from 1,200 smoky throats a great shout went up. Bantam gamecock Cannonball Martin, he was champion...
...been for that great shout, Referee Tommy Sheridan might have had good cause to shake for the safety of his own well-padded ribs. Never was a title awarded by a closer decision. Of the 15 rounds, six were indubitably Goldstein's, six as indubitably Martin's. In the dubious three, Goldstein was heady, agile, defensive; Martin eager, fresh, intrepid. Hard had Champion Goldstein pecked in the third and fourth, to no avail. His rights impaired Martin's jaw, failed to touch his spirit. Discouraged, Goldstein played safe, boxed, lost the decision. Yet not a few smoky...
...Haven, Conn., earlier in the fall, when the walls of a new dormitory authorized by the Yale Corporation started unexpectedly to rise, hard by sacrosanct old Connecticut Hall on the Yale campus, great was the shout that went up (TIME, Nov. 3, Nov. 17). Faculty, alumni, undergraduates blended their voices in the outcry: "Stop it! Tear it down! Hush hall!" Moved, the Corporation ordered that the walls cease to rise. Committees met and met, discussing what was wise and proper to be done. Dr. James R. Angell, Yale's diplomatic chief executive, went hither and thither, explaining, dissuading...