Clo[wne].[…]And I beſeech you, looke into Maſter Froth here ſir, a man of foure-ſcore pound a yeare; whoſe father died at Hallowmas: Was’t not at Hallowmas Maſter Froth? / Fro[th]. Allhallond-Eue.

Matrons and girls shall hoot at thee no more,

Before the platforms were extended up to the actual junction, branch trains had to set back into a bay.

The telegraph editor can use the undated as the top of the weather story and tack as many dateliners as he cares on the bottom, with the best coming first.