The penny-gavel in Kent was once exacted in half-sceatts, as has been already pointed out, giving to the acre in Kent a value of five deniers.

Pipes I blew, on malt I fuddled, / A lushy man! / Till my mind and head got muddled, / Dissipated man!

The guests have been smiling for two and half hours and are so bored they're discussing their dental appointments. . . and everyone is anxiously facing the kitchen. . . . I summon my best friend, Mayva, who says, You'd better snap it up.

If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that aliens had stolen the real Jessica and replaced her with some pod person.