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[[TOC]] [[Page 519]] [[Page 521]] is doing a walk, says she, in the [[feelmick's park]], says he, like a tarrable Turk, says she, letting loose on his nursery and, begalla, he meet himself with Mr Michael Clery of a Tuesday who said Father MacGregor was desperate to the bad place about thassbawls and ejaculating about all the stairrods and the cats- pew swashing his earwanker and thinconvenience being locked up for months, owing to being putrenised by stragglers abusing the apparatus, and for Tarpey to pull himself into his soup and fish and to push on his borrowsaloaner and to go to the tumple like greased lining and see Father MacGregor and, be Cad, sir, he was to pipe up and saluate that clergyman and to tell his holiness the whole goat's throat about the three shillings in the confusional and to say how Mrs Lyons, the cuptosser, was the infidel who prophessised to pose three shielings Peter's pelf off her tocher from paraguais and albs by the yard to Mr Martin Clery for Father Mathew to put up a midnight mask saints withins of a Thrushday for African man and to let Brown child do and to leave he Anlone and all the nuisances committed by soldats and non- behavers and missbelovers for N.D. de l'Ecluse to send more heehaw hell's flutes, my prodder again! And I never brought my cads in togs blanket! Foueh! <STRIKE> </STRIKE> Angly as arrows, but you have right, my celtslinger! Nils, Mugn and Cannut. Should brothers be for awe then? <STRIKE> </STRIKE> So let use off be octo while oil bike the bil and wheel whang till wabblin befoul you but mere and mire trullopes will knaver mate a game on the bibby bobby burns of. <STRIKE> </STRIKE> Quatsch! What hill ar yu fluking about,ye lamelookond fyats! I'll discipline ye! Will you swear or affirm the day to yur second sight noo and recant that all yu affirmed to profetised at first sight for his southerly accent was all paddyflaherty? Will ye, ay or nay? <STRIKE> </STRIKE> Ay say aye. I affirmly swear to it that it rooly and cooly boolyhooly was with my holyhagionous lips continuously poised upon the rubricated annuals of saint ulstar. <STRIKE> </STRIKE> That's very guid of ye, R.C.! Maybe yu wouldn't mind talling us, my labrose lad, how very much bright cabbage or

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