Chocolate came in those fairy cups of India china, which made the delight of our grandmothers, and whose value was such, that the poet satirist considered their loss to be the severest trial to a woman's feelings—alias her temper;...

I wish they would fix the rattle under my dashboard.

He would have felt like an irate ticket-holder at a prize-fight where the principals refused to mix it up.

Ya're as good as a Chorus my lord.