The cook, a little wiry, hook-nosed woman, worn thin by incessant action and friction, was bustling about among her kettles and saucepans, with the scullion at her heels, both clattering in wooden shoes, which were as clean and white as the milk-pails; rows of vessels, of brass and copper, regiments of pewter dishes, and portly porringers, gave resplendent evidence of the intensity of their cleanliness; the very trammels and hangers in the fireplace were highly scoured, and the burnished face of the good Saint Nicholas shone forth from the iron plate of the chimney back.
— from The Crayon Papers by Washington Irving

There were postcard photographs going round early in the war, of the bishop surrounded by boys and girls—like a benevolent Pied Piper.
— from Everyman's Land by A. M. (Alice Muriel) Williamson