she hates me, and does not think me fit to wipe her shoon!
Emily Brontë. Wuthering Heights (1847)
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Al þus eld me for-dede...
Y ne mai no more of loue done,
Mi pilkoc pisseþ on mi schone...
The Kildare Poems: Elde (1325)
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How should I your true-love know
From another one?
By his cockle hat and' staff
And his sandal shoon.
Shakespeare. Hamlet
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“Where’s your shoon, then?” Jamie asked accusingly. “You’ll no ha’ left them in the pasture again? Your mother will box your ears for ye if ye’ve lost them.”