Today's Vocabulary

Posted by Adora Svitak

Vocabulary Definitions

titan a person of colossal stature or achievement

"Mark Twain is a titan of American literature."

zealot someone passionately devoted to a cause

"Adrianna was a zealot about animal rights."

voracious having a great appetite

"The behemoth was voracious and ate Adora and her entire family."

salubrious healthful (good for your health)

"Rundown and sickly, Rita hoped the mountain air would have a salubrious effect on her health."

pugnacious quarrelsome, eager and ready to fight

"The serene eighty year old used to be a pugnacious troublemaker in her youth, but she is softer now."

Vocabulary Exercise - salubrious vs. pugnacious

Mr. Puck Bradley walked down the street with a pipe jammed up his nose and his pants on in the entirely wrong way.

"Bradley, good man! What in the name of all things on earth are you doing in that backwards fashion?" the bartender asked as Bradley stumbled into the tavern.

"What are you talking about? You're only an ol' bartender. How could you know about my highly respected fashion decisions?" Mr. Puck Bradley demanded. "In fact, I don't know how you could even think about it! What's the world comin' to? Somebody ought to get knocked down, tell him right."

"Have some salad to clear your mind," the bartender said, offering Bradley a plate heaped full of lettuce and chard. "You need something or the other. I thought you were nearly dead last night when you had so much whisky."

"Whisky! Ha, that don't do a single thing to this ol' body!" Mr. Bradley said proudly. "Matter of fact, I don't know how you could think it!" And with this, he dealt the bartender a mighty punch to the nose.

"To clear your soul of sins, refrain from violence," the bartender said primly.

"Violence! That ain't any violence," Mr. Bradley said, taking a great swig from a fine glass bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. "Ech! This stuff is awful." He hurled the whole bottle against the window, where it took a sizable piece out of the pane and broke into shards on the sidewalk outside. "Hey, you bottle! I ain't takin' any insolence from you!" He began catcalling at the bottle in a most odd manner, and pedestrians began to stare.

"Nor any insolence from you!" Bradley roared, and blindly dealt blows to whoever was within immediate reach of the window.

"Please eat some salad," the bartender pled again, attempting to drag Bradley away from the window. "Breathe deeply." Ignoring the bartender, Bradley tried to grab ahold of the lightbulb and instead fell onto a hardbacked chair.

"Sit straight, don't slump. It's bad for your spine," the bartender cautioned. Bradley snorted like a bull and lifted up the whole chair and hurled it towards the bartender. It missed, instead flying into the wine cupboard and shattering a whole row of bottles.

A Pet's Eye View of History

A Pet’s Eye View of History
Svitak, Adora

I am the renowned tomcat, Hamilton of Mt. Vernon. I have, since the day of my celebrated birth, been companion to Martha Washington of Mt. Vernon. This being a common 1762 day spent laid upon the carpet with lethargy most uncommon to my namesake, curse him, I have chosen to talk to my lowly readers to pass time.

I live in a great house for humans, with tall windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor and curlicues of ivy wrapping around the Venetian-railed verandah, and balconies with potted plants on the second floor, but nothing for a tomcat like me.

Mrs. Washington is the typical society matron doing all sorts of goodly works and such, and takes great comfort in eating. She is more of a mother than a wife to the eminent Mr. Washington, who is absent most of the time, takes good care of the animals in her care, and usually lies back on the davenport.

They say that Mrs. Washington is a most impressive figure. Perhaps they mean her girth, for else I would say that she is the average president’s wife and do-gooder. Of course, I cannot judge too well, having not seen any other presidents in the fledgling nation, but she is no different from any other women to me.

A curse upon my name and my namesake. Hamilton! How did humans get to name us felines, I daresay? I profess to be an anti-federalist, myself, and have clawed a Federalist Paper on occasion. The simple Mrs. Washington, however, took my destructive intent to be adoring fondling, and christened me Hamilton with great ado. This Hamilton is a hotheaded fop with about as much genius as deserts have floods. Upon arriving to pay a visit to Mrs. Washington, he shooed me out of the way like a common alley-cat and paid less attention to me than a flea! Would that I had a different name.