For such a quatrain and couplet as the following it is scarcely hazardous to predict proverbiality:— They eat and drink and scheme and plod And go to church on Sunday; And many are afraid of God And more of Mrs. Grundy. . . . The Cockney met in Middlesex or Surrey Is often cold and always in a hurry.

The night had now closed in, and its darkness was only relieved by the wan lamps that vistaed the streets, and a few dim stars that struggled through the reeking haze that curtained the great city.

Facebook alone will balance competing values like newsworthiness against privacy, or the old print belief in transparency against the digital aversion to “doxxing” — that is, publishing people’s identifying information against their will. And in the standoff with The Post this month, all you can do is choose your fighter: Mark Zuckerberg or Rupert Murdoch.

But when practice yielded no improvement, curses and the crack of a whip followed. Stripped, lying face down on the ground, Platt absorbed the master's rage, lash after lash striping his buttocks, shoulders, and back.