It has been a calm and sunny day.

Not a shot was fired--no sniping even.

We feel like grouse on a pious Highland moor when Sunday comes, and even the laird dares not shoot.

The cave dwellers left their holes and flaunted in the light of day.

In the main street I saw a perambulator, stuffed with human young.
Pickets and outposts stretched their limbs in the sun.