Being really universal it varies from valley to valley. Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese. Once more he mixes his creation, and renews his blending At last round the mortar his two fingers mending The dispersed portions into one ball, It befits that type and name we call the moretum.
There was a noble Wensleydale cheese in Yorkshire, a Cheshire cheese in Cheshire, and so on. Note that the 'The' has crept into their heading again. Some overflowings from such a fountain of information may therefore be permitted to springle these pages. But you are not tasting or touching any environment, as in the cider of Devonshire or the grapes of the Rhine.
But if, let us say, we compare cheese to soap that vastly inferior substancewe shall see that soap tends more and more to be merely Smith's Soap or Brown's Soap, sent automatically all over the world.
Two feet behind them sat a hulking labourer with a humorous face like wood painted scarlet, with a huge mug of mild beer which he had not touched, and probably would not touch for hours. It is ancient - sometimes in the individual case, always in the type and custom. After a few sentences exchanged at long intervals in the manner of rustic courtesy, I inquired casually what was the name of the town.
Except Virgil and this anonymous rhymer, I can recall no verse about cheese. If the Grand Lama has soap it is Brown's Soap. Yet this high cheese, by choice of fenland men, Like a tall green volcano rose in power.