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deceptered, in what niche of time1 is Shee or where in the rose 
world trysting, that was the belle of La Chapelle, shapely Liselle,         
and the peg-of-my-heart of all the tompull or on whose limbs-to- 
lave her semicupiose eyes now kindling themselves are brightning,2 
O Shee who then (4.32 M.P., old time, to be precise, according to 
all three doctors waterburies that was Mac Auliffe and poor Mac- 
Beth and poor MacGhimley to the tickleticks, of the synchron- 
isms, all lauschening, a time also confirmed seven sincuries later by 
the quatren medical johnny, poor old MacAdoo MacDollett, with 
notary,3 whose presence was required by law of Devine Fore- 
sygth and decretal of the Douge) who after the first compliments4 
med darkist day light, gave him then that vantage of a Blinken- 
sope's cuddlebath at her proper mitts—if she then, the then that 
matters, —but, seigneur! she could never have forefelt, as she yet 
will fearfeel, when the lovenext breaks out, such a coolcold 
douche as him, the totterer, the four-flights-the-charmer, doub- 
ling back, in nowtime,5 bymby when saltwater he wush him these 
iselands, O alors! to mount miss (the wooeds of Fogloot!) under 
that chemise de fer and a vartryproof name, Multalusi (would it 
wash?) with a cheek white peaceful as, wen shall say, a single pro- 
fessed claire's6 and his washawash tubatubtub and his diagonoser's 
lampblick, to pure where they where hornest girls, to buy her in 
par jure, il you plait, nuncandtunc and for simper, and other duel 
mavourneens in plurible numbers from Arklow Vikloe to Louth 
super Luck, come messes, come mams, and touch your spottprice 
(for 'twas he was the born suborner, man) on behalf of an oldest 
ablished firma of winebakers, Lagrima and Gemiti, later on, his 
craft ebbing, invoked by the unirish title, Grindings of Nash,7 the 

   1 Muckross Abbey with the creepers taken off. 
   2 Joke and Jilt will have their tilt. 
   3 Old Mamalujorum and Rawrogerum. 
   4 Why have these puerile blonds those large flexible ears? 
   5 Pomeroy Roche of Portobello, or the Wreck of the Ragamuffin. 
   6 No wonder Miss Dotsh took to veils and she descended from that 
obloquohy. 
   7 The bookley with the rusin's hat is Patomkin but I'm blowed if I knowed 
who the slave is doing behind the curtain.