Page 457
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Jump to navigationJump to searchold Con Connolly's residence! By the horn of twenty of both of
the two Saint Collopys, blackmail him I will in arrears or my
name's not penitent Ferdinand! And it's daily and hourly I'll
nurse him till he pays me fine fee. Ameal.
Well, here's looking at ye! If I never leave you biddies till
my stave is a bar I'd be tempted rigidly to become a passionate
father. Me hunger's weighed. Hungkung! Me anger's suaged!
Hangkang! Ye can stop as ye are, little lay mothers, and wait in
wish and wish in vain till the grame reaper draws nigh, with
the sickle of the sickles, as a blessing in disguise. Devil a curly
hair I care! If any lightfoot Clod Dewvale was to hold me up,
dicksturping me and marauding me of my rights to my onus, yan,
tyan, tethera, methera, pimp, I'd let him have my best pair of
galloper's heels in the creamsourer. He will have better manners,
I'm dished if he won't! Console yourself, drawhure deelish!
There's a refond of eggsized coming to you out of me so mind
you do me duty on me! Bruise your bulge below the belt till I
blewblack beside you. And you'll miss me more as the narrowing
weeks wing by. Someday duly, oneday truly, twosday newly,
till whensday. Look for me always at my west and I will think
to dine. A tear or two in time is all there's toot. And then in a
click of the clock, toot toot, and doff doff we pop with sinnerettes
in silkettes lining longroutes fo His Diligence Majesty, our
longdistance laird that likes creation. To whoosh!
; ; ; Meesh, meesh, yes, pet. We were too happy. I knew some-
thing would happen. I understand but listen, drawher nearest,
Tizzy intercepted, flushing but flashing from her dove and dart
eyes as she tactilifully grapbed her male corrispondee to flusther
sweet nunsongs in his quickturned ear, I know, benjamin brother,
but listen, I want, girls palmassing, to whisper my whish. (She
like them like us, me and you, had thoud he n'er it would haltin so
lithe when leased is tacitempust tongue). Of course, engine dear,
I'm ashamed for my life (I must clear my throttle) over this lost
moment's gift of memento nosepaper which I'm sorry, my
precious, is allathome I with grief can call my own but all the
same, listen, Jaunick, accept this witwee's mite, though a jenny-
