He smiled, his wide rat-trap mouth splitting to show bad teeth.
I suspected that, my dear fellow! I have Bunburyed all over Shropshire on two separate occasions. Now, go on. Why are you Ernest in town and Jack in the country?
I never heard. I heard also that Master Vicar of Croydon, and all the remnant of the priests of London that were sent for, were sworn, and that they had such favor at the Council's hand that they were not lingered nor made to dance any long attendance to their travail and cost, as suitors were sometimes wont to be, but were sped apace to their great comfort so far forth that Master Vicar of Croydon, either for gladness or for dryness, or else that it might be seen (quod ille notus erat pontifici) went to my Lord's buttery bar and called for drink, and drank (valde familiariter).
It is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl; or Neither fish, flesh, nor good red herring. Not fish (food for the monk), not flesh (food for the people generally), nor yet red herring (food for paupers). Suitable to no class of people; fit for neither one thing nor another. ⁂ Fish comes first because in the Middle Ages the clergy took precedence of the laity. “She would be a betwixt-and-between ... . neither fish nor fowl.” — Mrs. Lynn Linton.
