Word: chimney
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...wolf blows their houses down. The lazy pigs have a more industrious brother who has just completed a brick mansion, in which he allows them to take refuge. When the wolf attempts to huff & puff this house down, he fails ignominiously. He then tries to climb down the chimney. The lazy pigs are alarmed. The industrious pig builds a roaring fire, singes the wolf's tail...
...expected to listen patiently for a bit, then give the cothumpers plenty of cigars, applejack, gin whiskey or beer. If they do not, or if they are definitely disliked by the cowthumpers. the noise goes on. If the couple decline to show themselves, the crowd may cover their chimney and smoke them...
...coach at the high school. Three years later they went to Manhattan, to study at Columbia. Now they live in Minneapolis; but she still hopes to go back to South Berwick, to "the house my grandfather built and in which my father was born . . . where I whispered up the chimney flue to Santa Claus, roasted apples in the ashes with my brother, started my first novel at the age of six, saw pumpkin faces at the window on Halloween, watched the marshes freeze over, the crab-apple tree blossom, the hay being hurriedly brought to shelter ahead of the storm...
...phlegmatic cloud of imagination, he slowly glided out of Cambridge to a region replete with little green gnomes rollicking gaily. Before him and toward the horizon there loomed a macabre but wavering to the left and then to the right. A low wailing emitted from the narrow brick chimney. The Vagabond rushed thither to peer sureptitiously into a sordid room. A child, not much older than three, indifferently sucked its index finger; a woman, with delicate almost mask-like features brushed her hair, occasionally glancing at the child, then to a corner where an elderly man, sitting on a crummy...
...cowled man commanded the Friar, and a lambent flame filled the chimney, cheering the room, driving out the chill mist. From the empty cupboard the servant produced a bottle of Maliga sacke and a fat capon. While the spitted fowl drank in the fire the monk talked of himself, of the joys of youth. "Thou'rt younge yet," be smiled. "And so was I, onely, methinks, a few houres gone. In everie pleasure reioycing, I imployed myselfe with all the wilde antickes of the sences. An apless knave, dauncing with the trulls, keping my stomacke better than my soule...