I fancy that, in the vital kernel of that inanimate ball of fur, which Audubon says he rolls himself into, he is all the while dreaming the sweetest of dreams — living in the rankest, blossomest, honeyest clover, fenced about with delightful tumbled-down stone-walls, […]

Wilt thou kill God's officers and the king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! Thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller.

Get out of here and don't come back!

I called to the boy, who was still standing on the bank, to take the fish-basket, which I had left behind, and follow me over the barrier[.]