Thus the one plant was an index to the other, though they might be growing a hundred miles apart, both being particularly sensitive to the same atmospheric influences.
In a distant tree beyond the rickyard there was something hanging in the branches that I could not quite make out: it was a limb of a dead horse.

A cart-horse belonging to a neighbouring farmer had met with an accident and had to be killed, when, according to old custom, portions were sent round to each adjacent farmstead for the dogs, which then had a feast.

Thus, said Hilary, according to the old saw, the death of a horse is the life of a dog..