In one corner of the room there was a huge hearth, over which hung a stock-pot, with a not altogether unpalatable odour of hot soup emanating therefrom.
[W]ith his ſpear / Advanced athvvart puſh'd back the Trojan van, / And all ſtood faſt.
[…] Swelling's going down already. Just hurt like a futhermucker for a few minutes."
It was a week's worth of laydowns portraying the full line of athletic clothing for that season […]
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