He that would watch the king's hares must not drag himself along as if he was a lazybones with soles of lead to his boots, or like a fly on a tar-brush, for when the hares began to scamper about on the hill-sides it was quite another dance than lying at home and catching fleas with mittens on.

In 1980, Volvo engineers sweated in Arizona, testing their prototype 760 sedans. To keep Scottsdale’s upwardly mobile from figuring out what the cars were (fat chance), the Swedes broke the “t”s off of Talbot badges, screwed on the resulting “ALBO” labels, and told people that the cars were French. The ruse might have worked, except that the six-foot-four, blue-eyed blond overseers parlez-voused English in “Ya-shoor!” Scandinavian tones.

Deke mashed a wad of stinkbait onto the treble hook, then rinsed his fingers in the water to reduce the foul stench before lifting his beer can.

I was elected to the Executive Committee of the Vegetarian Society, and made it a point to attend every one of its meetings, but I always felt tongue-tied. Dr. Oldfield once said to me, 'You talk to me quite all right, but why is it that you never open your lips at a committee meeting? You are a drone.' I appreciated the banter. The bees are ever busy, the drone is a thorough idler.