“Do I fidget you ?” he asked apologetically, whilst his long bony fingers buried themselves, string, knots, and all, into the capacious pockets of his magnificent tweed ulster.

Something clearly went wrong, for in the accounts for 1624, against the record of £50 paid to Jenninges the Housekeep at Theobalds for the setting of those Trees wch my Lord sent the king', Sackville Crowe has written in the margin that "This my Lord would not have comaunded againe though it were for the [king's] use'.

"Try 'em. Might be the thing for your sweetsome tooth.”

For quotations using this term, see Citations:Harperite.