Irish yews. (Not shoes.)

“Give the cat stale bread!” “The cat’s tail, mamma?”

“Silence, child!”

Fill the sieve with thistles, then sift the thistles in the sieve.

A glowing gleam glowing green.

The bleak breeze blighted the bright broom blossoms.

Flesh of freshly dried flying fish.

Six thick thistle sticks.

Two toads tried to trot to Tedbury.

Give Grimes Jim’s great gilt gig whip.