Take hogshit for instance.
He ran last week, and he was hided, and he was out on the day before yesterday, and here he is once more, and he knows he's got to run and to be hided again.
Sir Hunter, how is a man to know the Hart […] in what pasture he has been, whether in wheat, or in oats, or in beans, or in peas? I will tell you, if the fewmets are yellow, and in globular masses that is of wheat, or of oats. And if he has been in peas or in beans, if the Hart is fat, the fewmets will be black, and in globular masses, and the fewmet small.
She looks worried that undelved depths of silly shit do exist, but she relents, because a tip is at stake and we profile loose with gratitude.
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