Book, Chapter

1    2,  59|      sacred maternity, slender of leg~And gloctoring exile from
2    2,  78|          stuck the ax into my own leg because I was a damned fool
3    4, 121|        swearing, he lifted up his leg from time to time and filled
4    5, 140|           hesitate to worry at my leg with his serrated bill.
5    5, 140|          the trifling wound in my leg with vinegar: then, fearing
6    5, 145|          has she a more beautiful leg," says Horace, Sat. I, ii, "
7    5, 145| deformities there are. Ah, what a leg! What arms! But how thin
8    5, 145|      whether she has an unshapely leg, whether her foot is ugly;