Then I learned panthers went by sound, not scent.

I blew another blast on the horn and went toward him, for I must not lose sight of him.

If he attacked me, could I defend myself with the hatchet?
When they found me I would be horrible to look upon, and it would kill Elizabeth.

Will my peas burn?
The flies will get into that pitcher of cream.

If I am killed, they will forget to put parsley in the soup.