In Chapter One of Jane Eyre, Charlotte Brontë writes:
I cannot tell what sentiment haunted the quite solitary churchyard, with its inscribed headstone; its gate, its two trees, its low horizon, girdled by a broken wall, and its newly-risen crescent, attesting the hour of eventide.
... which, alas, annoys the astronomical reader to no end — since the crescent moon does not rise in early evening, it sets!
^z - 2008-02-09
(correlates: Infelicitous Prose, Jane Eyre, WutheringHeights, ...)