I ſhall not trouble you about the raiſing of them of Truncheons or Lops, because I could never find them to take; only ſometimes ſome of the ſmallest Suckers, when the Sap is newly ſtirring in them, if they are ſlipt off from the Tree, will grow

Eventually the tale of a stagehand who seemed to be separated from his housebound wife, but, oddly, not when she came to visit, seemed more amusing than appalling, and I learned not to wince at the various (sometimes painfully) young women who arrived breathless and eager for a Showmance—whether or not there was a wife in the background. [sic]

Familiar! Madam, in Troth he’s down-right rude.

This pride of sponsorship, rather than pride of rating, seems to have been lost in the welter of decimal points and who's-on-firsts.