Long vistas of straggling trees—and leaf-strewn pathways winding in among them—give way to scattered clumps of firs and tangled masses of fern and brushwood, while broken fences come dancing up between, and then shrink down again behind rising knolls covered with a sudden growth of gorse and heather.
— from Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. 2, No. 8, January, 1851 by Various

“This is best,” said Ruth, deliberately; and before Rose knew it she had seized her two hands, and unclasping them from behind her, drew them to her own breast.
— from Other Things Being Equal by Emma Wolf