And his end was terrible, for just when he had begun, Sir Paul Swiller read his great paper at the Royal Society, proving that the savages were not only quite right in eating their enemies, but right on moral and hygienic grounds, since it was true that the qualities of the enemy, when eaten, passed into the eater.
"The Napoleon of Notting Hill"
Gilbert K. Chesterton
The child is daffy about his poetry and moons at him all the time out of the corners of her eyes, dandy eyes at that; but the old ink-Swiller acts as if she wasn't there at all.
"Andrew the Glad"
Maria Thompson Daviess
The farmer is a beer Swiller, and sleeps heavily, and his women folks all sleep up in the garret.
"Cruel As The Grave"
Mrs. Emma D. E. N. Southworth