The night closed down and the hunt was dead,
Alfred and Rother were tucked in bed;
The cold moon rose on a fox's snore
And everything much as it was before.
Evoe.
Our Erudite Contemporaries.
"'Her feet beneath her petticoat like little mice peep in and out.'
Yes, but when Bobbie Burns wrote that the lassies of Scotland didn't wear Louis heels and extremely short skirts."
—Ladies' Paper.
Any more than they did when Sir John Suckling apostrophised the "wee, sleekit, cow'rin', tim'rous beastie."