I was standin' by owld Foley's gate, whin I heard the cry of the hounds coming across the tail of the bog, an' there they wor, my dear, spread out like the tail of a paycock, an' the finest dog fox ye ever seen a sailin' ahead of thim up the boreen, and right across the churchyard.

But junkerdom in Germany alone among the nations of the earth rests on the divine right of kings that is the last resort of privilege.

But there was nothing wreckish about it.

[T]o tell you my mind, Lucretia, I think it's a good riddance. I don't want any of your brazen faces here, myself!]