I'm not letting him use my computer again; he always jacks it up.

In ancient times, when the state of this Church and its Clergie was more idle and superstitious, but more opulent and honourable, what Gentleman, what Nobleman, what Prince, yea what sovereign Kings did not ambitionate to plant some of their sons (as Henry the seventh intended his second son, Henry the eighth) into Gods vineyard, for the work, office and honour of a Church-man?

The sun […] glows in a still, if misty, heaven, snowful and leaden.

By way of bringing this intricate and tedious dissertation to an end, allow me to recite a short specimen of the thing itself — a Siamese “jaw-breaker” which, for ingenious bewilderment by means of homoiophones, I am sure does not fall behind our “Theophilus Thistle the Thistle-sifter,” while in coloratura of intonation it certainly leaves that far behind.