In the early part of the century, society was beset by the "Biters."
Chalmers made up a name for them; he called them "The Biters."
The biters and anti-biters being equally divided, the discussion waxes strong.
This is equivalent to the cry of "Biters" when an apple is shown, and establishes unquestionable title.
Every day produces something new in the world: jests turn into earnest, and the biters are bit.
When these biters lay hold, nothing will make them let go; you must tear them away by pieces.
There's kickers and biters and shirks amongst them; but if they won't learn and can't learn, they get 'condemned.'
There a duck was sitting on her eggs between the jaws of an ox, which you call 'biters of straw.'
She gathered together her building timber: 'biters of straw' sheltered her, and 'drink's echoing cavern' was above her.
The biters were out, running hither and thither after their manner, and filling the air with hideous cries.