During the fleeting summer months of his field season, when the outer vestiges of winter melted briefly, there were ponds and pools and lakes of water everywhere.

Whereas a piano strikes the string, a harpsichord plucks it.

The badger made his dark and tortuous hole on the side of every hill where the copsewood grew thick.

After the autumnal equinox they were to be ablaqueated like the vines. Every third year they were to be dunged, and after some years (generally the eighth) to be pruned; for there was an old saying, to wit, eum qui aret olivetum rogare fructum; qui stercoret exorare; qui caedat cogere.