Word: delightfully
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Last autumn his broker advised him to buy some common shares of Hiram Walker, Inc. To Mr. Dyer's delight, the stock went up to 93⅞. He held on. Then the shares slid down to 66. Not until then did Mr. Dyer learn, he says, that Hiram Walker is a Canadian whiskey stock. His shock and grief at losing his money were exceeded only by his vexation at learning he had become involved in a liquor business. He sold his stock at a loss and, last week, wrote a letter of protest to the New York Curb Association...
...prohibition charge. She had returned to her own world to celebrate her freedom. A brass band preceded her. Her "suckers" (patrons) rose en masse to cheer her entrance. She kissed everybody in sight. The smoky air was thick with vindictive joy. Harry Thaw, onetime maniac, hysterical with delight, jigged up and down at his table until Miss Guinan led him out on the floor to introduce him. She read congratulatory messages from such friends as Manhattan's Congressman La Guardia, Henry Zittel of Zit's (theatrical weekly...
...critical sense was temporarily submerged by an enthusiasm caught from the great humanists of his period. Some time later he abandoned both science and the humanities to play the monk at the Abbey of Saint-Maur-des-Fosses, a Paradise, he said, of healthfulness, amenity, serenity, delight and all honest pleasures of agriculture and rustic life. . . . But Rabelais could not remain in a Paradise, any more than Eve; like her he was too full of curiosity. Chastised for heresy and impiety, accused of Calvinism, drunkenness and gluttony, he retained his influence with a sufficient number of cardinals and bishops...
...dismay of sensitive folk and the delight of the pugnacious, the audience hissed, hissssed. Ironically, Conductor Stokowski motioned his men to rise, to receive an ovation never given. The few faithful who remained after the interval heard Mozart's G minor Symphony and the Third Leonore Overture...
Actress Anglin's discreet linking of voice and gesture is in the grand tradition of acting, a rare delight in the modern theatre. But Playwright Esme Wynne-Tyson's gusts of passion are too like the winds of old melodrama. They proceed from an artificial churning contraption...