Word: wanding
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Henry Wiggin occupied this position at the Chase National Bank, from 1911 to 1918, and again from 1921 to 1926* under the title of President. He occupies it now, astute observers suspect, in his title of Chairman of the Board. Spruce and quick-witted, whenever he waves his malacca wand he waves it with invariable accuracy at whichever younger brother to Cinderella best deserves the good luck of recognition...
...stern magic of sport thundered across the carpet and the little men on horses waved their bamboo wands. The wand of Thomas Hitchcock waved, and for the first time the goal of Major Atkinson was crossed for a score. The U. S. was leading. Stevenson waved his wand, and the U. S. was ahead by two. Britain rallied, fighting across the carpet toward the U. S. goal. They attacked, missed, attacked and missed again. Then Hitchcock waved his wand again and the score was 3-0. From that moment the event was no longer a contest; the magic...
Major Atkinson's wand worked one through for Britain; and again Hitchcock swept in to score. As the fourth period opened, this same Hitchcock drew back his wand with headstrong determination and struck the willow ball. It rose like a golf ball for a midiron over the heads of the players, bounced, bounded through the posts over 100 yards away. Webb scored, Hitchcock scored, Milburn (against whose play at back the British at tack had foamed and fallen like a wave) scored twice; Hitchcock scored, Webb scored twice; Roark scored a second goal for Britain. Webb scored; Pert scored...
...work, Author Morand allows readers to see him, a suave and casual Prospero, waving a wand which resembles a swagger stick. He wishes readers to understand how little effort it has caused him to be referred to as the polished Parisian diplomat, as the brilliant, the famed, the witty author of Ouvert la Nuit, Fermé la Nuit and many a shorter turn in the smartest smart-charts...
...sound so strange, long drawn and musically wild and unearthly, that . . . I stood gazing up at the clouds whence that voice dropped like a wing. High aloft in the crosstrees was that mad Gay-Header, Tashtego. His body was reaching eagerly forward, his hand stretched out like a wand, and at brief sudden intervals he continued his cries. To be sure the same sound was that very moment perhaps being heard all over the seas, from hundreds of whalemen's lookouts, perched as high in the air; but from few of those lungs could that accustomed old cry have...