Word: staccatoed
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...vivid staccato name of Garibaldi is synonymous with revolution and romance.* Last week it seemed that a new Garibaldi, a grandson of the Liberator, had arisen to wade in glory. He is Colonel Ricciotti Garibaldi, Italian World War hero, officer of the Legion of Honor. For some months he has resided at Paris, the swashbuckling idol of expatriate Italian and Spanish antiFascists. Last week he put in the field 400 armed companions disguised as mountaineers who assembled in Southern France and attempted to march in force across the Spanish border...
...extreme Left groups. M. Poincaré possessed, and none knew it better than he, powers which no French Premier has held since the election of 1924 returned a Chamber so evenly divided between Right and Left that it has not known its own mind with conviction for two years. Staccato Declaration. The Chamber quieted-eventually. Premier Poincaré read his ministerial declaration in a crisp, resolute, staccato monotone: "The Cabinet which presents itself before you has been formed in a spirit of national reconciliation to meet the danger which threatens the value of our money, the liberty of our treasury...
...Battery, where they plumped into a Coast Guard Patrol cutter and vanished down murky New York Harbor chasing the fleet S. S. Aquitania, eastbound. . . . Last week, tired, grimy, grinning, the same two men returned to the Pulitzer Building in brown canvas flying suits, crouching in automobiles outridden by staccato police motorcycles...
Scorpions crawled on the bosom of Lake Cayuga one afternoon last week - the red-and-white-footed scorpion of Cornell and the blue-and-gold of California. For nearly three miles they crawled evenly, staccato voices in their tails urging their legs to greater labor. Then open water began to show. There was a scorpion's length of it between the two when Cornell-her eight gigantic hearties bursting from a last effort which her slightly lighter California guests could not match-shot across the line, winner of a crew race that promised brave things for Cornell later...
Indeed, March, having appeared like a lion, finds Cambridge besieged by a plague of cynicism almost approximating the plague of colds now making lectures objectively staccato. This month might be and really is called by some dog might be and really is called by some dog days, mainly due, of course, to this sweeping cynicism, and not as some might think, because the sun is climbing northward with a persistency remarkable for one so old. So the thinking being when he climbs into bed to race the blissful nirvana of eclipsed regrets occasionally wastes a few minutes and an aspirin...