A prophet I, Madam; and I speak the truth the next way: […]

Carried somehow, somewhither, for some reason, on these surging floods, were these travelers, of errand not wholly obvious to their fellows, yet of such sort as to call into query alike the nature of their errand and their own relations.

It is almost impossible for anyone who loves boats not to rejoice at the sight of a St. Pierre dory. Gaily painted, with lots of sheer and a defiantly jaunty look to them, the dories have been pleasing the eyes of their beholders for nearly a century.

Moments ago, vines had shot from the ground to lash at us; I'd thought at first that they were the tentacles of a worm or roper monster, but the leaves revealed that we were dealing·with some kind of plant creature.