Word: button
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Murtaugh lets his starting pitchers try to work themselves out of trouble instead of jerking them at the first long hit, loyally sticks to the same, starting lineup. Says Pirates' General Manager Joe L. Brown, son of the chasm-mouthed comedian: "Dan never pushes the panic button." With little raw power in his lineup, Murtaugh has revived an oldfashioned, single-slapping brand of baseball, leniently lets his players flash the sign for the hit-and-run whenever they see a chance. "Murtaugh lets us use our own judgment," says Hoak, "until it proves to be bad judgment. For instance...
...that automatically heat or cool, change colors and brightness to suit the mood and weather of the day. Windows will automatically close at the first drop of rain, reopen when the sun comes out. Throw-away plastic dishes will be made in every kitchen at the touch of a button...
...Everett Dirksen came in together, and Johnson afterward joked that he had asked for tips on how to run for Vice President from a man with a lot of experience at it. New York's Governor Nelson Rockefeller showed up sporting a big "I'm for Nixon" button on one lapel and an elephant-shaped "Nixon" pin on the other, told newsmen that he was planning to make 120 speeches for Nixon during the remaining 60-odd days of the campaign...
...private Pullman car was attached to the rear, with a party of eight elderly Negroes aboard. The leader and bill payer of the group was a tall, spare man, duded up in a blinding sports shirt and necktie, a sharp-lapelled suit, jaunty Ivy League cap and high-button shoes. He was no potentate from Africa, but William Tyler, 78, a retired Pullman porter, and he was relishing the fulfillment of a lifetime dream...
Last week more than 2,000 Britons descended on Sheffield Park Station, many of the men in batwing collars and the women in high-button shoes and Victorian bonnets. To the strains of When the Midnight Choo Choo Leaves for Alabam', the Bluebell-consisting for the present of two freshly painted wooden coaches between a brace of antique steam engines -chuffed down the track at a sedate 25 m.p.h. Minutes later, reaching the end of the line, the volunteer engineer and fireman hopped out, hurried around to the rear engine, fired it up and brought the train, all whistles...