A Snow Yeare, A Rich Yeare.

To Weepe For Joy Is A Kinde Of Manna.

He That Hath No Hony In His Pot, Let Him Have It In His Mouth.

Two Sparrows On One Ear Of Corn Make An Ill Agreement.

The Death Of Wolves Is The Safety Of The Sheep.

Take Heede Of Still Waters, The Quick Passe Away.