Some fevv of the horſes kept their ſtanding ſtill unaffrighted, and even thoſe they had much ado to ſaddle, to bridle, and to mount upon; […]

methinks I scent the morning air.

Bradley swore a mighty deep-space oath and braced himself against certain annihilation.

“[…]the Navy's supposed to give me a ship that goes, and a captain that fights—— That's what all this muck is for, isn't it?” “Look, it's an old story by now. We're stuck with a lemon. Misfortune of war.[…]”