Your uncle Henry was a great one for the women.

Uncle Henry came back to the hotel room with me.

Uncle Henry had paid last year's taxes on it for her.

Uncle Henry was standing by the window, smoking a cigar.

"Uncle Henry says it's a shame that more of them don't grow it."

Jack ran off, and the three children made their way slowly back to Uncle Henry's farm.

Uncle Henry grew poorer every year, and the crops raised on the farm only bought food for the family.

Uncle Henry, bottle and tumbler at the ready, came to wait on the baron himself.

Nine hours later, we pulled up at Uncle Henry's inn.

"Don't you worry about us, Uncle Henry, and do take care of yourself."