Difference between revisions of "Page 535"
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jackadandyline! Let me never see his waddphez again! And mine | jackadandyline! Let me never see his waddphez again! And mine | ||
it was, Barktholed von Hunarig, Soesown of Furrows (hour- | it was, Barktholed von Hunarig, Soesown of Furrows (hour- | ||
| − | springlike his joussture, immitiate my chry! as urs now, so yous | + | springlike his joussture, [[immitiate my chry]]! as urs now, so yous |
then!), when to our lot it fell on my poplar Sexsex, my Sexen- | then!), when to our lot it fell on my poplar Sexsex, my Sexen- | ||
centaurnary, whenby Gate of Hal, before his hostel of the Wodin | centaurnary, whenby Gate of Hal, before his hostel of the Wodin | ||
Revision as of 11:52, 16 July 2006
jackadandyline! Let me never see his waddphez again! And mine it was, Barktholed von Hunarig, Soesown of Furrows (hour- springlike his joussture, immitiate my chry! as urs now, so yous then!), when to our lot it fell on my poplar Sexsex, my Sexen- centaurnary, whenby Gate of Hal, before his hostel of the Wodin Man, I hestened to freeholdit op to his Mam his Maman, Majus- cules, His Magnus Maggerstick, first city's leasekuays of this Nova Tara, our most noble, when hrossbucked on his pricelist charger, Pferdinamd Allibuster (yeddonot need light oar till Noreway for you fanned one o'er every doorway) with my all- bum's greethims through this whole of my promises, handshakey congrandyoulikethems, ecclesency. Whosaw the jackery dares at handgripper thisa breast? Dose makkers ginger. Some one we was with us all fours. Adversarian! The spiking Duyvil! First liar in Londsend! Wulv! See you scar- gore on that skeepsbrow! And those meisies! Sulken taarts! Man sicker at I ere bluffet konservative? Shucks! Such ratshause bugs- mess so I cannot barely conceive of! Lowest basemeant in hystry! Ibscenest nansence! Noksagt! Per Peeler and Pawr! The broker- heartened shugon! Hole affair is rotten muckswinish porcupig's draff. Enouch! —— Is that yu, Whitehed? —— Have you headnoise now? —— Give us your mespilt reception, will yous? —— Pass the fish for Christ's sake! —— Old Whitehowth he is speaking again. Ope Eustace tube! Pity poor whiteoath! Dear gone mummeries, goby! Tell the woyld I have lived true thousand hells. Pity, please, lady, for poor O.W. in this profundust snobbing I have caught. Nine dirty years mine age, hairs hoar, mummery failend, snowdrift to my ellpow, deff as Adder. I askt you, dear lady, to judge on my tree by our fruits. I gave you of the tree. I gave two smells, three eats. My freeandies, my celeberrimates: my happy bossoms, my all- falling fruits of my boom. Pity poor Haveth Childers Every- where with Mudder! That was Communicator, a former colonel. A disincarnated
