Page 495
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Jump to navigationJump to searchplais. The said Sully, a barracker associated with tinkers, the
blackhand, Shovellyvans, wreuter of annoyimgmost letters and
skirriless ballets in Parsee Franch who is Magrath's thug and
smells cheaply of Power's spirits, like a deepsea dibbler, and he is
not fit enough to throw guts down to a bear. Sylphling me
when is a maid nought a maid he would go to anyposs length
for her! So long, Sulleyman! If they cut his nose on the stitcher
they had their siven good reasons. Here's to the leglift of my
snuff and trout stockangt henkerchoff, orange fin with a mosaic
of dispensations and a froren black patata, from my church milli-
ner. When Lynch Brother, Withworkers, Friends and Company
with T. C. King and the Warden of Galway is prepared to
stretch him sacred by the powers to the starlight, L.B.W. Hemp,
hemp, hurray! says the captain in the moonlight. I could put
him under my pallyass and slepp on him all nights as I would
roll myself for holy poly over his borrowing places. How we will
make laugh over him together, me and my Riley in the Vickar's
bed! Quink! says I. He cawls to me Granny-stream-Auborne
when I am hiding under my hair from him and I cool him my
Finnyking he's so joyant a bounder. Plunk! said he. Inasmuch
as I am delightful to be able to state, with the joy of lifing in my
forty winkers, that a handsome sovereign was freely pledged
in their pennis in the sluts maschine, alonging wath a cherry-
wickerkishabrack of maryfruit under Shadow La Rose, to both
the legintimate lady performers of display unquestionable, Elsebett
and Marryetta Gunning, H2O, by that noblesse of leechers at
his Saxontannery with motto in Wwalshe's ffrenchllatin: O'Neill
saw Queen Molly's pants: and much admired engraving, meaning
complet manly parts during alleged recent act of our chief
mergey margey magistrades, five itches above the kneecap, as
required by statues. V.I.C.5.6. If you won't release me stop to
please me up the leg of me. Now you see! Respect. S.V.P.
Your wife. Amn. Anm. Amm. Ann.
— You wish to take us, Frui Mria, by degrees, as artis litterarum-
que patrona but I am afraid, my poor woman of that same
name, what with your silvanes and your salvines, you are misled.
