Definitions
from Wiktionary, Creative Commons Attribution/Share-Alike License.
- verb Simple past tense and past participle of
wuther .
Etymologies
Sorry, no etymologies found.
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Examples
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How it "wuthered" and how the big raindrops poured down and beat against the pane!
The Secret Garden 1911
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How it "wuthered" and how the big raindrops poured down and beat against the pane!
The Secret Garden Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924 1911
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How it "wuthered" and how the big raindrops poured down and beat against the pane!
The Secret Garden Frances Hodgson Burnett 1886
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The wind wuthered so I couldn't go to sleep and I heard some one crying and wanted to find out who it was.
The Secret Garden 1911
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The wind wuthered so I couldn't go to sleep and I heard some one crying and wanted to find out who it was.
The Secret Garden Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924 1911
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The wind wuthered so I couldn't go to sleep and I heard some one crying and wanted to find out who it was.
The Secret Garden Frances Hodgson Burnett 1886
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From time to time the wind wuthered in the chimney at his back; from time to time there swept over Bloomsbury a squall so dark that he must rise and light the gas; about him was the chill and the mean disorder of a house out of commission — the floor bare, the sofa heaped with books and accounts enveloped in a dirty table – cloth, the pens rusted, the paper glazed with a thick film of dust; and yet these were but adminicles of misery, and the true root of his depression lay round him on the table in the shape of misbegotten forgeries.
The Wrong Box 2004
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-- tha should just ha seen him; he ommost lauped clean ower th 'breead flaik; -- an' thear shoo stood grinning at him throo th 'winder, an' he wor soa mad -- he wuthered th 'pan fair at her head; -- he miss'd his aim an' knock'd th 'canary cage to smithereens, th' cat gate th 'burd, an' th 'pan fell into th' churn.
Yorksher Puddin' A Collection of the Most Popular Dialect Stories from the Pen of John Hartley John Hartley 1877
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From time to time the wind wuthered in the chimney at his back; from time to time there swept over Bloomsbury a squall so dark that he must rise and light the gas; about him was the chill and the mean disorder of a house out of commission -- the floor bare, the sofa heaped with books and accounts enveloped in a dirty table-cloth, the pens rusted, the paper glazed with a thick film of dust; and yet these were but adminicles of misery, and the true root of his depression lay round him on the table in the shape of misbegotten forgeries.
The Wrong Box Robert Louis Stevenson 1872
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