His two 'Strawberries,' as he christened them, were henceforth the theme of every letter.

For them that strawberry was the world, and a very jolly world tooabundance of food, a soft bed to lie on, and a chamber of exquisite perfumes.

" I tremble lest his Hanoverians should be encamped at Hounslow; Strawberry would become an inn; all the Misses would breakfast there, to go and see the camp!

Sometimes strawberries are like women: Whole beds full of showy blossoms; but when the time comes to be ripe and luscious, you can't find them.