At Easington, the next centre for the halmote, things were even worse. The steward offered to make payment of rent contingent on the tenant's survival of the plague but even this could not tempt the nervous peasants into taking on any new responsibility.

And besides, Winchesters of the nonremovable sort work fine—why bother complicating things with cartridges […]

Her husband, as it turned out, was an amazing mooer, and he mooed his way to winning!

Mum did her nut after we stayed out all night without calling her.