For goodness' sake, I spelled that word correctly. I never knew I could do that.

I've been socking away cash for years.

One bright, icy afternoon–shall I ever forget it?–while little Philly, at the prospect of a bath, was suffering under a severe attack of Psychrophobia, the baby, held in Aggy's now careful arms, was gazing through the window panes.

So he moseyed over by the tracks to light up and loiter in the darker shadows of the water tower as a million years went by and then at last he spied the headlamp of a powersome Baldwin 4-6-2 puffing, thirsty, up from the southwest.