Longman Dictionary of Contemporary English
The Collaborative International Dictionary
Worm-eaten \Worm"-eat`en\, a.
-
Eaten, or eaten into, by a worm or by worms; as, worm-eaten timber.
Concave as a covered goblet, or a worm-eaten nut.
--Shak. Worn-out; old; worthless. [R.]
--Sir W. Raleigh. [1913 Webster] -- Worm"-eat`en*ness, n. [R.]
--Dr. John Smith.
Wiktionary
a. 1 Eaten by worms, especially having a worm inside. 2 (context by extension English) rotten or decrepit.
WordNet
adj. eaten (or as if eaten) by worms [syn: vermiculate, wormy]
Usage examples of "worm-eaten".
It was the inn that is in every provincial faubourg, with large stables and small bedrooms, where one sees in the middle of the court chickens pilfering the oats under the muddy gigs of the commercial travellers--a good old house, with worm-eaten balconies that creak in the wind on winter nights, always full of people, noise, and feeding, whose black tables are sticky with coffee and brandy, the thick windows made yellow by the flies, the damp napkins stained with cheap wine, and that always smells of the village, like ploughboys dressed in Sundayclothes, has a cafe on the street, and towards the countryside a kitchen-garden.
The weak candlelight played upon trunks and boxes stacked in towers, roomsful of worm-eaten furniture, bundles.
After great ecstasy, along the plains, What foulest impregnation of her sight Transformed the scene to multitudinous troops Of human sketches, quaver-figures, bent, As were they winter sedges, broken hoops, Dry udder, vineless poles, worm-eaten posts, With features like the flowers defaced by deluge rains?
Then with the help of Bufo and Dooly, he scraped away dirt and brush from atop what turned out to be a trapdoor made of heavy wooden planks, worm-eaten and dark from having been buried.
He removed his boots, trod as lightly as possible on the old worm-eaten boards, wore a large black velvet cloak, and was careful to use the Rising Sun Lubricator for oiling his chains.
Once, our scouts found the worm-eaten hull of a crude dugout canoe washed up on a sand-bank, and upon the bottom land an abandoned cluster of huts.
Have you ever taken a sniff of those inadequately washed, worm-eaten sponges appended to pealing, yellow-rimmed slates, those sponges which somehow manage to store up all the effluvia of writing and 'rithmetic, all the sweat of squeaking, halting, slipping slate pencils moistened with saliva?