Runlet

The biographer, especially of a literary man, need only mark the main currents of tendency, without being officious to trace out to its marshy source every runlet that has cast in its tiny pitcherful with the rest.

She followed the dry runlet to where a jutting shoulder formed a nook matted with briars.

[…]our cellarer shall have orders to deliver to thee a butt of sack, a runlet of Malvesie, and three hogsheads of ale of the first strike, yearly—If that will not quench thy thirst, thou must come to court, and become acquainted with my butler.