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Word: walked (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1920-1929
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Usage:

Different only in images and ritual are the Easters of today−in Rome, where the Pope washes the feet of twelve bishops; in Russia, where Christ is supposed to walk through the land disguised as a beggar; in the Philippines, where there are gorgeous parades and cockfights; in Chester and Suffolk (England), where they play ball and dance to music; on Fifth Avenue, Main Street and in Stubbs Corners, where new clothes, pleased smiles and excited conversation are the Easter ritual of people who do not go to church...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Religion: 1899th Easter | 4/1/1929 | See Source »

Jack and Jill have a poultry farm, Where all the fowls walk arm in arm; They don't worry and they don't care, It's no Misery Farm down there! What's the reason? I'll tell you- Cock-a-doodle-doodle...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: GREAT BRITAIN: Eggs! Eggs! Eggs! | 3/25/1929 | See Source »

Calvin Coolidge came in. Everybody stood up and clapped. Suddenly a man threw open the centre door and announced in a great voice: "The President-Elect of the United States." And who should walk in but The Chief himself...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE PRESIDENCY: The Chief | 3/11/1929 | See Source »

When they walk abroad in Boston, where in her father's old brick house in Brimmer Street she lives during his exploring absences, or in Winchester, Va., where Byrds have long had their homes, Commander and Mrs. Byrd usually march side by side with their four children (Richard Evelyn Jr., Evelyn Bolling, Katherine Agnes, Helen) ranged behind them. In their home he has a ceremonious way of listening to her. He stands before her, heels together, tall slim body bent deferentially towards her. That was the way he used to stand when, as naval lieutenant and Harvard undergraduate...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Science: Mrs. Byrd's Land | 3/4/1929 | See Source »

...kind of deliciousness." A crop of nettles, a dead cow, and by the stairs a prostrate lump that was a man. Sleepily he stirred, instinctively levelled his pistol at them; accidentally it went off, nipped Marda in the hand. The girls explained they were merely out for a walk; the man snarled it was time they gave up walking-for he was a Black-&-Tan, exhausted from days of guerrilla warfare, and they were the Irish aristocracy that ignored his existence, gave tennis teas for English officers...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Irish Indifference | 2/25/1929 | See Source »

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