We say nothing of the pulpitish and dogmatic tone which seems never so far to forget itself as to drop down into the easy accents of friend talking with friend.

With a gut-wrenching heave, I grasped the steering wheel of the porcelain bus and shouted at the top of my voice for 'Hughie' to come and sort me out.

But a man— / Note men !—they are but women after all, / As women are but Auroras !—there are men / Born tender, apt to pale at a trodden worm, / Who paint for pastime, in their favourite dream, / Spruce auto-vestments flowered with crocus-flames / There are, too, who believe in hell and lie : […]

Because of deregulation and the drive to lower costs, Mr. Lorr said, truckers are now regarded by many companies as just another replaceable part. Some can barely eke out a living.