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blushing like Pat's pig, begob! He's not too timtom well ashamed
to carry out onaglibtograbakelly in his showman's sinister the
testymonicals he gave his twenty annis orf, showing the three
white feathers, as a home cured emigrant in Paddyouare far be-
low on our sealevel. Bearer may leave the church, signed, Figura
Porca, Lictor Magnaffica. He's the sneaking likeness of us, faith,
me altar's ego in miniature and every Auxonian aimer's ace as
nasal a Romeo as I am, for ever cracking quips on himself, that
merry, the jeenjakes, he'd soon arise mother's roses mid bedew-
ing tears under those wild wet lashes onto anny living girl's
laftercheeks. That's his little veiniality. And his unpeppeppedi-
ment. He has novel ideas I know and he's a jarry queer fish be-
times, I grant you, and cantanberous, the poisoner of his word,
but lice and all and semicoloured stainedglasses, I'm enormously
full of that foreigner, I'll say I am! Got by the one goat, suckled
by the same nanna, one twitch, one nature makes us oldworld
kin. We're as thick and thin now as two tubular jawballs. I hate
him about his patent henesy, plasfh it, yet am I amorist. I love
him. I love his old portugal's nose. There's the nasturtium for
ye now that saved manny a poor sinker from water on the grave.
The diasporation of all pirates and quinconcentrum of a fake like
Basilius O'Cormacan MacArty? To camiflag he turned his shirt.
Isn't he after borrowing all before him, making friends with
everybody red in Rossya, white in Alba and touching every dis-
tinguished Ourishman he could ever distinguish before or be-
hind from a Yourishman for the customary halp of a crown and
peace? He is looking aged with his pebbled eyes, and johnnythin
too, from livicking on pidgins' ifs with puffins' ands, he's been
slanderising himself, but I pass no remark. Hope he hasn't the
cholera. Give him an eyot in the farout. Moseses and Noasies,
how are you? He'd be as snug as Columbsisle Jonas wrocked in
the belly of the whaves, as quotad before. Bravo, senior chief!
Famose! Sure there's nobody else in touch anysides to hold a
chef's cankle to the darling at all for sheer dare with that prison-
potstill of spanish breans on him like the knave of trifles! A jolly-
tan fine demented brick and the prince of goodfilips! Dave