Word: stoutness
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...years ago, saws screech through oaken timbers and pine planking; middle-aged craftsmen, wielding adzes, cut keels so that they look as though they had been planed. U.S. yachtsmen and game fishermen set off the boom. They had discovered that Nova Scotians could still build stout, trim sailing craft, besides modern power boats-and build them cheap...
...painting as "a picture of a shabby though very happy gentleman who is obviously a street musician. He is at home, seated at his table. You can see how he has been enjoying himself-there are heads and tails of herrings on a plate, a bottle which has contained stout, and a glass which betrays the fact that he has drunk the stout. There is also a half-empty packet of cigarets. The happy gentleman is all alone and he is leaning back in his chair, playing his cornet. What is he playing? Well, I've called the picture...
...Noggins, a stout, pawky woman, came out to Canada before the first World War and settled near Saanichton, on Vancouver Island. She has an uncle in Liverpool, a cousin in Seattle, but her best friend is whimsical Columnist-Editor Bruce Hutchison, who lives near Saanichton too, and who helps run the Winnipeg Free Press by remote control...
...Drink, No Smoke. Branch Rickey, the smartest man in baseball, had looked hard and waited long to find a Negro who would be his race's best foot forward, as well as a stout prop for a winning ball team. Rickey and his men scouted Robinson until they knew everything about him but what he dreamed at night. Jackie scored well on all counts. He did not smoke (his mother had asthma and cigaret fumes bothered her); he drank a quart of milk a day and didn't touch liquor; he rarely swore; he had a service record...
...dressing room just big enough to hold her, a short, stout and bespectacled Negro woman stepped onto the two-by-four stage. The prim expression on her flat face was that of a Sunday school teacher lost in a gin mill and primed to bawl out the customers. Seconds later, her ample hips bouncing, her abdomen lewdly rolling, she was shouting the blues at the top of her voice. Last week, after a 17-year absence, Bertha ("Chippie") Hill was back at her old trade. To Manhattan's smoke-filled Village Vanguard, deep in a Greenwich Village cellar...