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Updated: June 4, 2025
Like a strip of lip-colored lead suspended from her poor little nose by two tugging wire-gray wrinkles her persistently conscientious sickroom smile seemed to be whanging aimlessly against her front teeth. The sensation certainly was very unpleasant.
Look at the dancers and singers they have, and who is there that tattooes any more? It's all gone to smash, the whole world." Now amid the popping of the rifles and the tinny whanging of the piano Dutch draws forth a final package. He unwraps a yellowed newspaper. Photographs. One by one he shuffles them out and arranges them on the broken desk as if in some pensive game of solitaire.
A gun thundered from close at hand, up river, followed by the thunder of numerous guns and the reports of many rifles fired very rapidly. "Now what's the Topila whanging away at?" Habert complained, then joined the others in gazing at the picture. A searchlight, evidently emanating from the Mexican gunboat, was stabbing the darkness to the middle of the river, where it played upon the water.
Loretta wept softly while straightening out the Veil, in accordance with Tradition. Later on she did an Eddie Collins and landed the Bride's Bouquet. At 11.30 she had the Best Man backed into a Corner, slipping him that Old One about his Hair matching his Eyes. It is now Thursday morning and who is this in the Gym whanging the Medicine Ball at the Lady Instructor with the Face? It is Loretta.
"Well," said Booverman, without joy, "that ball is lying about two hundred and forty yards straight up the course, and by this time it has come quietly to a little cozy home in a nice, deep hoof track, just as I found it yesterday afternoon. Then I will have the exquisite pleasure of taking my niblick, and whanging it out for the loss of a stroke. That'll infuriate me, and I'll slice or pull.
Your boss was over once when Tommy was whanging away on oner them songs, and he says, 'Heavens, Tommy, when's the funeral? and Tommy says, 'Guess again, Simmons, he says.
The red and white of the Morgan stable; the blue and gold of the Desha. It's Swallow. No, no, it's The Rogue. Back and forth, back and forth stormed the rival names. The field was pandemonium. "Cottonton" was a mass of frantic arms, raucous voices, white faces. Drake, his pudgy hands whanging about like semaphore-signals in distress, was blowing his lungs out: "Come on, kid come on!
Two or three bands were whanging away somewhere in the grove; children were shouting and laughing, and boys were racing to and fro, playing ball or wrestling; babies were screaming, and the marshals were shouting directions to the entering teams, in voices that rang through the vaulted foliage with thrilling effect, and the harsh bray of the ice cream and candy sellers completed the confusion.
It will be a mighty close call, my son; we shall have to fight to get clear." At that instant of time something went overhead with a curious whanging whine. "That's a three-pound ball," said Marah, pointing to a spurt upon a wave. "The cutter wants us to stop and have breakfast with 'em." "Whang," went another shot, flying far overhead. "Fire away," said Marah.
The ukulele was whanging again, and a couple or two, locked cheek to cheek, were undulating in a low-lidded kind of ecstasy. Finally, Cora Kinealy and Archie Sensenbrenner, rather uglily oblivious. A youth, frantic to outdistance a rival for the dancing-hand of Miss Gertie Cobb, stumbled across Miss Schump's carefully crossed ankles. "'Scuse," he said, without glancing back.
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