The jobbing foundryman has very little control over the nature of the jobs which come his way.

The dull, unflavoured drops from life's clepsydra.

Some worms are said to exsert the proboscis.

Before starting Mytton posted a wagoner at a spot on the course where the slope was steep, and gave him orders to cry Whoa! as the horses passed him. The man did so, with the result that two of the friends were unshipped by the abruptness of the stop to which their clumsy mounts came on hearing the familiar order.