The box lunch always contained enough for a crew of nine: three loaves of bread, a pound of American cheese, a pound of mystery meat (usually something that resembled salami), one jar of smooth peanut butter, one jar of grape jelly, two dozen small bags of airline peanuts (or, occasionally, rock-hard raisins), a dozen boxes of cranberry juice (or cranapple, crangrape, or the like), condiments, and dessert.

Professional jealousies are always confined to the more ignorant; and education alone will enable us to rise above our catchpenny caterings to the prejudices and jealousies of the uninformed.

“Breathe soft, ye Gales!” the fair Cᴀʀʟɪɴᴀ cries, / “Bear on broad wings your Votress to the skies.”

And even the like precurse of fierce events, As harbingers preceding still the fates And prologue to the omen coming on, Have heaven and earth together demonstrated Unto our climatures and countrymen. (Shakespeare)