Else let my brother die, / If not a fedary, but only he / Owe and succeed thy weakness.

The end of all this scraping and hoarding is to give away the property again at some potlatch, at which in a few hours the labour of years will be dissipated. The feasts are often given by the chief men of small tribes as a sort of peace-offering to more powerful ones; but most frequently they are looked upon in the light of gratifying the vanity of the giver and of adding to his personal consequence. … The chiefs are under the necessity of frequently giving these potlatches in order to preserve their popularity, just as the old knights used to scatter largess to their followers; …

From morning till night you saw her sitting on a low chair in the kitchen, surrounded by a Chinese cook and two or three native girls, giving her orders, chatting sociably with all and sundry, and tasting the savoury messes she devised.

For by the Dart, which is likewise a pipe, is made a deep passage into the skin, and then by the anger of the Fly, is his gally poisonous liquor injected […].