I saw the thin pencil of smoke before I smelt the heated wax. Automatically I hit the big switch. Sitting mute, I watched the faint line of smoke fade into oblivion, and with it went the hopes of this CQ Contest... The Receiver power trannie had packed up.

“Do not let us go near them," he says in a cajoling, low voice to Bertha, whiling her away into the sun and the flowers;

She's only gone and run off with the milkman!

Napoleon's drive on Moscow was as determined as it was disastrous.