There's mischiefs and malarkies / But no queers, or yids, or darkies. / Within this bastard's carnival, / This vicious cabaret!

And this, I take it, Is the main motive of our preparations The source of this our watch, and the chief head Of this post-haste and rummage in the land.

Upon the barred and slitted wall the splotched shadow of the heaven tree shuddered and pulsed monstrously in scarce any wind.

It is held to be a good taunt, and somehow or other to clinch the question logically, when an old gentleman waggles his head and says: Ah, so I thought when I was your age. It is not thought an answer at all, if the young man retorts: My venerable sir, so I shall most probably think when I am yours. And yet the one is as good as the other: pass for pass, tit for tat, a Roland for an Oliver.