a threepenny bit
In wine there is truth, and although I was able to contain my excesses, and fell short of protesting my undying amour, our conversation had touched on most remarkably personal matters.
Just because we live out in the global wop wops, geographically-speaking - both derivation and historical usage are given on page 923, by the way - or perhaps because we do live more than a thousand kilometres from our nearest English-speaking neighbours who, too, have evolved their own form of the tongue - we have developed our own ways of describing things, talking together, sharing our observations and views.
Slow tolls the village-clock the drowſy hour; The partridge burſts away on whirring wings; Deep mourns the turtle in ſequeſter'd bower, And ſhrill lark carols clear from her aereal tour.
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