Page 493

TOC

Page 492 Page 494

took a brief one in his shirtsails out of the alleged given mineral,
telling me see his in Foraignghistan sambat papers Sunday feac-
tures of a welcomed aperrytiff with vallad of Erill Pearcey O
he never battered one eagle's before paying me his duty on my
annaversary to the parroteyes list in my nil ensemble, in his lazy-
chair but he hidded up my hemifaces in all my mayarannies and
he locked plum into my mirrymouth like Ysamasy morning in
the end of time, with the so light's hope on his ruddycheeks and
rawjaws and, my charmer, whom I dipped my hand in, he simply
showed me his propendiculous loadpoker, Seaserpents hisses
sissastones, which was as then is produced in his mansway by
this wisest of the Vikramadityationists, with the remere remind
remure remark, in his gulughurutty: Yran for parasites with rum
for the turkeycockeys so Lithia, M.D., as this is for Snooker,
bort!
     — Which was said by whem to whom? 
     — It wham. But whim I can't whumember. 
     — Fantasy! funtasy on fantasy, amnaes fintasies! And there is 
nihil nuder under the clothing moon. When Ota, weewahrwificle
of Torquells, bumpsed her dumpsydiddle down in her woolsark
she mode our heuteyleutey girlery of peerlesses to set up in all
their bombossities of feudal fiertey, fanned, flounced and frangi-
panned, while the massstab whereby Ephialtes has exceeded is the
measure, simplex mendaciis, by which our Outis cuts his thruth.
Arkaway now!
     — Yerds and nudes say ayes and noes! Vide! Vide! 
     — Let Eivin bemember for Gates of Gold for their fadeless 
suns berayed her. Irise, Osirises! Be thy mouth given unto thee!
For why do you lack a link of luck to poise a pont of perfect,
peace? On the vignetto is a ragingoos. The overseer of the house
of the oversire of the seas, Nu-Men, triumphant, sayeth: Fly as
the hawk, cry as the corncrake, Ani Latch of the postern is thy
name; shout!
     — My heart, my mother! My heart, my coming forth of 
darkness! They know not my heart, O coolun dearast! Mon
gloomerie! Mon glamourie! What a surpraise, dear Mr Preacher,