I take no delight in the stalking-horse, for I catch such cold that I am like to founder myself at that sport.

If I do not run, toil, travel, and trot about, I am not well at ease.

True it is that in leaping over the hedges and bushes my frock leaves always some of its wool behind it.

I have recovered a dainty greyhound; I give him to the devil, if he suffer a hare to escape him.

A groom was leading him to my Lord Huntlittle, and I robbed him of him.