Last Thursday, all at once, several groups of Skillet Lickers spontaneously broke into a medly of Look for the Union Label, Woodie Guthrie’s Vigilante Man, and The Internationale.

• Aah-ahhh! You have a woman’s hand, milord! I’ll wager these dainty pinkies never weighed anchor in a storm.
• Well, you’re right there.

The Southern acquired them because the little Class B4 0-4-0 tanks were finding heavy modern rolling stock more and more of a handful, and at war's end the railway had nothing of suitable power but short wheelbase on its books to take their place on the more tortuous of the dock lines.

He tortured himself to find out how he could make his declaration to her, and always halting between the fear of displeasing her and the shame of being such a coward, he wept with discouragement and desire. Then he took energetic resolutions, wrote letters that he tore up, put it off to times that he again deferred.