There was something more to this than met the eye, and he had the distinct feeling that the marshal had just snookered him into a corner. But he couldn't very well refuse, and it would look fishy if he demanded they march now.

This is done, by representing phenomena which are in reality merely soulical, as having a spiritual origin.

In this business of pluviculture (as I have nicely named it) the operator (aptly called a quacktitioner) promises showers on a thirsty land.

and loude lamentyngs, loue: I hope my piteous pearcyng plaintes, shall God to mercie moue.