Hello? Hello? Is that zoo? … Well, nobody's talking baby talk. Well, I'm the man that called up about the leopard. You don't have to do anything about it. It's all been a mistake. Yes. Uh … Oh, well, stop them.

[…] they administer Pearles, and Corrals being beaten to dust or dissolved in distilled vinegar, or the juice of limons, and again dryed, and solvable in any potable liquour:

In search of the principle on which joints ought to be roasted, to be roasted enough, and not too much, I myself referred to the Cookery Book […]. But the principle always failed us by some curious fatality, and we never could hit any medium between redness and cinders.

Her lips were tightly glued together, her chin protruding, her whole lay-out that of a girl who intended to stand no rannygazoo.