We've got a bogey at five o'clock.

[…] when the smearer had inlaid with his mixture of butter and tar, that number of the fleeces of the living flock which it was his daily task thus to cover from the cold,

Out in the yard a womanʼs hoarse contralto intoned a hymn.

[…] I do not agree with you in thinking that there are no difficulties, although the old difficulties, about the origin of evil &c., are generally a hocus of Theologians.