Word: windowful
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...Woodley," his Washington home, Statesman Stimson was waiting on the second floor for dinner to be announced when he saw a shadowy form at the window, heard footsteps on the porch roof. Cricket, his Scotch terrier, jumped up, growled a warning. Secretary Stimson threw open the window, rushed downstairs, outdoors, saw somebody sliding down a porch pillar, running away into the night...
...window-smashing was perpetrated mainly by rowdies, thieves, plunderers and Communist provocateurs. . . . The police have been unable to give us the name of a single Fascist who had any part in the smashing of windows. . . . These acts of violence have nothing to do with our movement...
Professor Clark punches a tiny hole in the ear of a rabbit, similar to the holes which women used to pierce through their ears for earrings. In the hole he puts a double window. One pane is of glass or celluloid, the other of thin mica. The panes are 1/2,000 in. apart. So soon as the window is in place, the rabbit's ear begins to heal. Blood vessels, nerves, cells, all the appurtenances of living flesh work their way between the panes. When the rabbit is fastened so that the ear hole can be placed beneath...
Working with Dr. Clark on his rabbit's ear "window" has been Eleanor Linton Clark, 42, his wife. They married in 1911, when he was associate professor of anatomy at Johns Hopkins. Ever since she has been a "private investigator in anatomy" and his immediate assistant wherever he has taught-Johns Hopkins (1907-14), University of Missouri (1914-22), University of Georgia (1922-26), University of Pennsylvania (since 1926). She is one of the few women recognized by American Men of Science. The Clarks are one of the very few couples who jointly have attained scientific eminence. Another such...
...machinery has been installed and Cerberus is at the gate. For Harvard's light-fingered and absent-minded the inscription on the high facade reads: "Lose all hope who enter here." The open season for books is no more. Even should the conscientious objector escape through a back window and, disguised as a bricklayer, lose himself in the traffic of Massachusetts Avenue, the fear of the law would haunt his sleep, the imaginary hand, would forever be reaching for his shoulder...