News from Nowhere (or An Epoch of Rest)

labourers compelled to drink rot-gut

, then, take it," said she, "and don't trouble about losing it. What will it matter if you do? Somebody is sure to find it, and he will use it, and you can get another."

every Jack may have his Jill

splendidly clad in figured silk,

scarecrow amidst this beauty-loving

the smell of the trodden bracken near the wayside.

felt rather puzzled in

and that you had best suck it in little by little.

looked askance at my garments;

the materials were light and gay to suit the season.