The Hessian kept his choicest plunder in a sack that never left his person, for fear that his comrades would steal it.

The black cloth bestrewn with white beads blew up from time to time, laying bare the coffin. The tired bearers walked more slowly, and it advanced with constant jerks, like a boat that pitches with every wave.

He eked out a living selling vegetables from the garden.

In Day (1971), I proposed that in doing so, the creole (or, in the terminology used in that paper, the satellect), could demonstrate the reverse of natural language development. That is, instead of language change through a process of rule simplification, re-ordering, and deletion (cf. King 1969; Kiparsky 1968a), the satellect could change by some of its rules becoming more restrictive, less simple.