Word: wisp
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George Huddleston of Alabama, the South's only radical. A thin little wisp of a man who wears slippers in his office. He is given to vast and vociferous indignations. He is a fiery speechmaker. Pallid, drawn, hungry-looking, though personally wealthy. Professionally a lawyer who early threw his lot in with employes against employers in Birmingham...
...safe gapes open−gone the twin heirloom emeralds, gone the royal Russian ruby. A slip of a girl cowers by the curtain, hand to throat, wide eyes glued to the horrid spectacle. Thunderous knocking at the door−the police! Quavering housekeeper opens; gusty storm blows her grey wisp of hair, flash of lightning glitters in her twin green (emerald green) eyes. Blustering sergeant finds cigaret case initialed J. S. "A plant," sneers John Smith, master detective, who has appeared suddenly in their midst. "Forged!" he leers again, as the sergeant unearths a wallet stuffed with bills...
...completely natural. Nowhere does one find the affairs of the University discussed with that sure freedom that is found at the dinner of the alumnus who is ten years out from Sever Quadrangle. Improvement, planful aspiration, avowed democratic principle--all these have a way ofturning will-o'-the wisp when the builders of the report, who are either too safely ensconced in the best clubs to care about action, or are alumni like the Princeton investigator, decide quite humanly to let it go at that. Changes in any club system seem to be a matter of maturaration within the clubs...
...Octopus. There were two detectives, Mr. Dempsey and Mr. Kelly. They could not refuse a wisp of a girl who asked them to investigate a certain Long Island lighthouse wherein people were frequently murdered. On discovering a painter in the lighthouse, Mr. Dempsey tells Mr. Kelly to find the painter's pallet. Whereupon Mr. Kelly tells the painter to open his mouth, but it is Mr. Dempsey who announces that all painters have weasels. Then lights blink, doors swing, screams are screamed-and people appear, one by one, a shaggy seadog with a hook for a hand, a chirping...
...Rear Admiral, in his mad will-o wisp game with this long-dead Smith, resorted to various attempts to find the latter's book. After advertising without result in the query columns of the Boston Evening Transcript, he learned that the Library of Congress had no record of it, nor had the British Museum or any of the public libraries of the United States...