Word: relished
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Dates: during 1880-1889
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...complaint concerning the board at Memorial, and one is reluctant to find fault at all, when such an improvement has been made. But when, inevitably, one morning in each week, the only meats provided are those ever welcome delicacies, liver and bacon and sausage, some who do not relish such dishes must either breakfast on bread and butter and sweet potatoes, or resort to the convenient, but for some expensive, order slip. If the writer did not know that others besides himself were incommoded by this rather unhappy combination, he would have let the matter pass without comment. Cannot...
Harvard, though she does not relish the idea of measuring oars with us, in her challenge to a game of football, condescended to recognize Cornell in the athletic field. For the same reason that she is unwilling to row in the intercollegiate regattas, we profess, for the present, at least, a decided unwillingness to accept her challenge. Next fall perhaps will find us in a position to accept a challenge from Harvard, or any other college...
...waist, with muscles standing out like whip-cords, bends to the oar. Five o'clock thirty minutes is the fashionable hour for dining, and in fact, is the only time the Harvard man enjoys his meal. This is the dinner hour. In the morning he sleeps too long to relish his breakfast; at noon he lunches on soup and cold meats. But at half-past five he crowds into Memorial, is in good spirits, meets everybody and growls at the waiters. College House and Beck Hall sit side by side, discuss in familiar terms, and Harvard puts on her most...
...that they serve things decently. I will not complain of the wretchedly poor cooking of the meat that we have every evening, though it is hardly fit to eat, but I would like to be able to order from the extra bill of fare something that I could relish...
...shows decision and determination. She's rather opinionative. There's a deal of individuality about that forehead; and I war-want that beneath that depth of dark-brown hair there are some terrific uprisings of combativeness. That nose, too, just the least bit on the ascendency, bespeaks a fond relish for logomachy; it starts up just a little as if it sniffed the air for scents of strife and combat." Thus spoke my reflective, phrenological self. But my unphrenological, my natural self, exclaimed, "By the six consumptive sons of my goodie, this girl has a pretty face! Wonderfully pretty...