Page 365

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for further oil mircles upon all herwayferer gods and reanounc-
ing my deviltries as was I a locally person of caves until I got my
purchase on her firmforhold I am, I like to think, by their sacre-
ligion of daimond cap daimond, confessedly in my baron gentil-
homme to the manhor bourne till ladiest day as panthoposopher,
to have splet for groont a peer of bellows like Bacchulus shakes a
rousing guttural at any old cerpaintime by peaching (allsole we
are not amusical) the warry warst against myself in the defile as
a lieberretter sebaiscopal of these mispeschyites of the first virgi-
nial water who, without an auction of biasement from my part,
with gladyst tone ahquickyessed in it, overhowe and under-
where, the totty lolly poppy flossy conny dollymaukins Though
I heave a coald on my bauck and am could up to my eres hoven
sametimes I used alltides to be aswarmer for the meekst and the
graced. You are not going to not. You might be threeabreasted
wholenosing at a whallhoarding from our Don Amir anent villa-
yets prostatution precisingly kuschkars tarafs and it could be
double densed uncounthest hour of allbleakest age with a bad of
wind and a barran of rain, nompos mentis like Novus Elector, what
with his Marx and their Groups, yet did a doubt, should a dare,
were to you, you would do and dhamnk me, shenker, dhumnk you.
Skunk. And fare with me to share with me. Hinther and thonther,
hant by hont. By where dauvening shedders down whose rovely
lanes. As yose were and as yese is. Sure and you would, Mr Mac
Gurk! Be sure and you would, Mr O'Duane! To be sure and you
would so, Mr MacElligut! Wod you nods? Mom mom. No mum
has the rod to pud a stub to the lurch of amotion. My little love
apprencisses, my dears, the estelles, van Nessies von Nixies voon
der pool, which I had a reyal devouts for yet was it marly lowease
or just a feel with these which olderman K.K. Alwayswelly he
is showing ot the fullnights for my palmspread was gav to a
parsleysprig, the curliest weedeen old ocean coils around, so spruce
a spice for salthorse, sonnies, and as tear to the thrusty as Tay-
lor's Spring, when aftabournes, when she was look like a little
cheayat chilled (Oh sard! ah Mah!) by my tide impracing, as
Beacher seath, and all the colories fair fled from my folced cheeks!