The whiffle-tree would swing round and hit them, and when their collars were taken off, their necks would be raw and bloody.

The river flows past, a languid stream of lead; a single crow, screaming for its mate, flaps heavily against the north-east gale, that enters here also and lifts the carpet in long waves across the floor, whiffles light eddies of ashes in the chimney-corner, and vainly presses on door and window, like a houseless spirit shrieking and pining for a shelter from its bodiless and helpless unrest in the elements.

Like the whiffle-tit, they were just a damn lie.

Somewhere in the middle of it a hideous whiffling wail came down the sky: Trrou... trrou... trou!and then a crash!