You wait here while I fetch my coat.
To say that a woman is of the female persuasion was originally meant for a joke. As such it might pass — once. You might, indeed, refuse to smile; still, you wouldn't feel like invoking the law. But the constant and persistent use of this unfunny bit of fun has frown to be something of a public calamity. It is matter or congratulation, however, that such linguistic lese-majesty is far more common in England than in America.
A veteran of the tough audiences on the black rhythm and blues circuit, Houston wastes no time noodling around on stage; he begins his show from the back of the club, screaming bansheelike saxophone war cries through a cordless microphone and slowly stalking through the crowd in the general direction of the bandstand.
Like that of the Thruſh and Swallow in Æſope, Inſteed of mutual loue, kind compellations, whore & thief is heard, they fling ſtooles at one anothers heads.
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