Word: swilled
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...bent on beautifying their skins, were taking baths in the milk before it was bottled. The furious Duce rained blows on the girls' heads, ordered their boss dismissed, and personally overturned every milk can (Vaselli finally collected what he could of the spilled milk and sold it as swill for pigs...
Slowly his luck turned better. He rented five acres of desert land near Bakersfield, began raising hogs. Each night after work, he made the rounds of town restaurants, gathering swill to feed the pigs. With money earned from the hog sales, Roberts bought 15 acres for cotton, potatoes and alfalfa. After each day's work in the oilfields, he irrigated his crops; on hot summer nights he would lie down to sleep at the end of an irrigation furrow in his alfalfa field, and when the water got far enough down the furrow to lap at his body...
Scent of Cloves is a lady's view of the time of Cromwell, and if Cromwell had been a lady, the view might have been true enough. As it is, it tells a Cinderella story of little Julia Ashley, who is encountered competing with Irish pigs for some swill left behind by the Roundhead soldiery who laid Ireland waste. She grows up to be adopted by a dashing cavalier, farmed out to a Dutch orphanage and, in the natural course of events as they happen in female historical novels, mistress of a great plantation in the Dutch East Indies...
...manners have made him the current darling of London's West End intellectuals, got off an angry outburst in the highbrow monthly Encounter. Describing the royal family as "a ridiculous anachronism" and "the gold filling in a mouthful of decay," Osborne denounced "Queen worship" as "the national swill" and no fit occupation for Socialists. "I don't believe," he wrote, "that there can be one intellectual in the Labour Party who doesn't find it hilarious or contemptible. Naturally they would never dream of losing all those votes by saying...
...mess on lines calculated to make dinner with the Macbeths and Banquo's ghost seem like afternoon tea. And because he had been a ranker who had risen from the gutters of Glasgow, he is a figure of awe and almost superstitious regard to the kilted men who swill their usquebaugh and sweat to master pibrochs (variations on bagpipe tunes). As he warms his "celebrated bottom" before the mess fire (nothing, it should be said to satisfy Sassenach and U.S. curiosity, is worn beneath the kilt), it seems no harm can come...