Swad, in the north, is a peascod shell — thence used for an empty, shallow-headed fellow.

There has been a bad business during the night at 3, Lauriston Gardens, off the Brixton Road. Our man on the beat saw a light there about two in the morning, and as the house was an empty one, suspected that something was amiss.

At the time I thought his adamant refusal to give in right.

The horses in the archbishop's stables the murderers appropriated as their own fee,—or, as we should now say, as loot.