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Word: wisps (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...said the Blot, "but..." His eye caught a wisp of smoke curling up around his baggy red and yellow pantaloons. "Zounds!" he squealed. Rising to the occasion, the Jester yawned and preened himself lazily. Then, with a sudden leap, he huried the flaming sofa through the window. As it crashed to the street below, 11 of Cambridge's little red fire wagons arrived. "Obviously a case of grandeur delusions," chorused the fire fighters as they looked away blushing. "They think they're Ibisos...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Jester Defenestrates Blazing Sofa from Bow Street Bedlam | 5/7/1946 | See Source »

...Wisp-haired, preoccupied Alfred Frankenstein of the San Francisco Chronicle chose a deft, architectonic watercolor of The Rockies by California's Dong Kingman...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Art: Judgment Day for Judges | 3/19/1945 | See Source »

...been a tug-of-war between Boolba the scientist and Boolba the artist. For reasons of a dietary nature (one must eat), the former eclipsed the latter--but only superficially. The "fire" still burns within, and with a little pursuasive fanning, one can readily be treated to a wisp of artistic smoke in the form of an original poem, pencil sketch, oil painting, and on occasion, a stage...

Author: By M. P. B., | Title: NAVAL TRAINING SCHOOL | 4/25/1944 | See Source »

...Bubbling." At 2 a.m. on Monday there was a wisp of gas and a roughneck snapped "Fires out!" The drill motors and the engines of the watchers' automobiles were silenced; greasy mud began to slop out of the two-inch tube onto the derrick floor. All night long the Cottingham belched and spluttered, while roustabouts scraped the mud into testing tanks...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Business: Cottingham No. 1 | 4/3/1944 | See Source »

...think it's hard to climb a mountain and sing, you try it one of these days. Try it when the July sun comes down upon your back with blisterin heat and the lizards are scurryin over the dead leaves ahuntin a wisp of shade on the backbone of a mountain that is steamin in the swelterin heat like a pan of bread in an oven. ... I hurried up to the grave to look down in it. It wasn't as deep as I was tall. . . . On another grave was a tattered flag, that the wind had faded...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Lonesome Mountain | 12/13/1943 | See Source »

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