Word: twanging
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Cautiously the British District Magistrate, supported by armed native police, advanced to reason with the sword & arrow men. Twang! went an arrow, killed a policeman. Opening fire the police killed three tribesmen, wounded four, arrested 16, drove the rest out of town...
...done and on what should be done that is not being done. . . . The New Outlook will join in the search for truth." What followed in type was a political speech of the kind which only Democrat Smith can make. Through every line of it could be heard the sharp twang of his voice. It was packed with his public mannerisms, salty with his unpolished rhetoric. He spoke of the "tough winter" ahead. He made a forceful verb out of "gold-brick." Democrats searched the editorial in vain for some reference to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Editor Smith was primed to talk...
Contrary to legend, bowstrings give out a hard, flat sound, not a twang; arrows hiss rather than whistle in their flight. The loudest sound on an archery range is the thump of arrows when they reach the thick straw target. Into the gold bull's-eye of the 48-in. target at Canandaigua last week the arrows loosed by a lanky toxophilite from Coldwater, Mich., thumped most consistently. He, Russell Hoogerhyde, won the men's championship for the second time in succession, maintained a record of winning every tournament he has entered. His score...
When Strachey quotes, his are not like other historians' appeals to original sources: "Anno 1670, not far from Cirencester, was an Apparition; Being demanded, whether a good Spirit, or a bad? Returned no answer, but disappeared with a curious Perfume and most melodious Twang." Strachey's apophthegmatic irony is reminiscent of the 18th Century (which he calls "that most balmy time"): "To confess is the desire of many; but it is within the power of few." "In Latin countries-the fact is significant-morals and manners are expressed by the same word; in England...
Probably an abler artist than Peggy Bacon is William Henry Dyson of England who hung more of his brilliantly bitten etchings at the Ferargil Galleries last week. Grey-haired, slender and 48. he was born in Ballarat, Australia, still speaks with a rich bush-twang. He emerged from the War a witty cynic with an artistic manner reminiscent of Beerbohm the Exquisite, but with an even surer command of line. Possibly to make the Beerbohm parallel less marked he adopted etching as his medium two years ago. Like Max, half the effect of his pictures is in the written...