This alone of all the heavier pieces of furniture had been restored to its place.

As Ruby entered, the stranger broke off an earnest conversation he was holding with the farmer, and stood up to greet her.

The rose lay on her plate.
"Who has robbed my rose-bush ?" she asked.
"I am guilty," he answered: "I stole it to give it back; and, not being mine, 'twas the harder to part with." "To my mind," broke in Farmer Tresidder, with his mouth full of ham, "the best part o' the feast be the over-plush.

Squab pie, muggetty pie, conger pie, sweet giblet pie--such a whack of pies do try a man, to be sure.

Likewise junkets an' heavy cake be a responsibility, for if not eaten quick, they perish.