"One drowsy afternoon there came to my shop a smallish, shabby-looking man, quiet and civil in manner and peculiarly wooden as to his countenance; in short, a typical 'old lag.'

Psmith's face was wooden in its gravity.

Wooden out of a wooden birthplace, would such go forth, to feed fires, not spirits.

To understand this, one should hear the French-Canadian expatiate upon the superiority of the wooden to the metal bridge.