[…]a ſtronger then I commeth after me / whos ſhue latchett I am not worthy to ſtoupe doune and vnloſe.

Mamma set up a card table, and one of the men said,You don't want a table for a picnic.She said,I do. I can't stand dirt. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.She had started saying that a lot, like a habit, and I did, too.

He said the people in the stamperies and many others were armed with sticks to support them.

The calm night awoke with clamorous sounds—charpoys overturning; a yabble-yabble of highpitched, frightened voices; a tinkle of broken glass; the rattle of whistles as the askaris took up the alarm and thudded in their bare feet through the dusty streets looking for the disturbance.