Word: couching
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...French and Americans? "Count" Byron Kuhn de Prorok,* Algerian officials, and Trustee W. Bradley Tyrrell of Beloit College (Wis.)?broke into the reputed tomb of Tin Hinan, semi-legendary queen and goddess of the white race of Tuaregs (Berbers). In the crumbling frame of a carved wooden couch lay the six-foot skeleton of a personage, seemingly female, littered with beads, carbuncles, garnets, gold and silver objects, glass balls, with black and yellow designs like eyes. On the arm bones hung massive bracelets?eight on the right, seven on the left?of gold alloyed with copper and some other...
...sight of the Villa Borghase-next to the Vatican the chiefest art treasure-house in Rome. He may have reflected that Napoleon, to whom he is so often compared, placed his sister, the beautiful Pauline Bonaparte, in that Villa. She is there still- reclining in marble on a marble couch, as Venus, whom she much resembled. Her husband, Camillo Filippo Ludovico, Prince Borghese, was paid another great compliment by Napoleon. The Corsican, with characteristic economy, left his beautiful sister at Rome, but caused the most valuable pieces in the Borghese' collection to be conveyed to Paris. They have never...
...florid son-in-law took Rosamond and the professor's wife abroad; St. Peter escaped the jaunt with difficulty. He edited Outland s diary of the year in the cliff city, wrote a foreword and lay through long thoughtful evenings on his old box couch, covered with Tom's Navajo saddle-blanket. There was a high wind the night he had a cable from his returning wife, blew out the gas in the leaky heater. St. Peter smelled the room filling and wondered if he was obliged to save his life, now that it seemed so completed...
...Never," said an eminent professor of English composition in recommending Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch's famous essay denouncing jargon. "Never has cheap English been more cleverly shown...
...Manhattan, one Louis Charchowsky went to bed, put out the light. The night was warm. His apartment, which he rented from one Louis Lesch, also a painter, was stifling. Painter Charchowsky tossed on his couch. The heat, far from diminishing as night deepened, grew worse and worse. Paniter Charchowsky, now well-nigh charred, flung back his reeking sheets. To his delirious senses it seemed that the steam heat was singing and sputtering, that it gave off heat. He put his hand against it, rushed to the basement, found the furnace in full blast, brought suit next day against Landlord Lesch...