Sometimes the Master Builder, coming home from his work of repairing or altering some house either great or small, would say: "I would we could get rain.

This long drought is something serious.
I never knew the houses so dry and parched as they are now.

If a fire were to break out, it would be no small matter to extinguish it.

The water supply is very low, and the whole city is like tinder." It was Saturday night.

The sun had gone down like a great ball of fire, and Gertrude had observed to her husband how it had dyed the river a peculiarly blood-red hue.