The litter was the fruit of the union between our whippet and their terrier.

[…]turning to the right again, but more sharply, the wayfarer found himself once more in villadom, but a villadom more ornate, more costly, with gardens to be measured in acres—or nearly.

In walking he would raise the toes of his feet above the heads of the Phobians to a height of five hundred feet.

Be abstinent; shew not the corruption of thy generation: he that feeds shall die