Oh, what sad times are these when passing ruffians can say 'nee' at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land, nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies are under considerable economic stress at this period in history. Oh, don't be such a baby. Well, I can't just call you 'Man'. The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plumber may seek warmer climes in winter yet these are not strangers to our land. Charge! [mayhem] Oh, Robin! What makes you think she is a witch? A blessing from the Lord! "And Saint Atila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, 'Oh, Lord, bless this thy hand grenade that with it thou mayest blow thy enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy.' And the Lord did grin, and people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats, and large --" Wood!