Difference between revisions of "Page 24"
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[[beneath_his_auspice_for_the_living|for the living]] and he [[urned his dread]], that [[dragon volant]], and he | [[beneath_his_auspice_for_the_living|for the living]] and he [[urned his dread]], that [[dragon volant]], and he | ||
made [[louse]] for us and [[delivered us to boll weevils amain]], that | made [[louse]] for us and [[delivered us to boll weevils amain]], that | ||
− | mighty liberator, [[Unfru-Chikda-Uru-Wukru]] and begad he did, | + | mighty [[liberator]], [[Unfru-Chikda-Uru-Wukru]] and begad he did, |
our ancestor most worshipful, till he thought of a better one in | our ancestor most worshipful, till he thought of a better one in | ||
his windower's house with that blushmantle upon him from ears- | his windower's house with that blushmantle upon him from ears- |
Revision as of 15:32, 3 November 2007
to play cash cash in Novo Nilbud by swamplight nor a' toole o' tall o' toll and noddy hint to the convaynience. He dug in and dug out by the skill of his tilth for himself and all belonging to him and he sweated his crew beneath his auspice for the living and he urned his dread, that dragon volant, and he made louse for us and delivered us to boll weevils amain, that mighty liberator, Unfru-Chikda-Uru-Wukru and begad he did, our ancestor most worshipful, till he thought of a better one in his windower's house with that blushmantle upon him from ears- end to earsend. And would again could whispring grassies wake him and may again when the fiery bird disembers. And will again if so be sooth by elder to his youngers shall be said. Have you whines for my wedding, did you bring bride and bedding, will you whoop for my deading is a? Wake? Usgueadbaugham! Anam muck an dhoul ! Did ye drink me doornail? Now be aisy, good Mr Finnimore, sir. And take your laysure like a god on pension and don't be walking abroad. Sure you'd only lose yourself in Healiopolis now the way your roads in Kapelavaster are that winding there after the calvary, the North Umbrian and the Fivs Barrow and Waddlings Raid and the Bower Moore and wet your feet maybe with the foggy dew's abroad. Meeting some sick old bankrupt or the Cottericks' donkey with his shoe hanging, clankatachankata, or a slut snoring with an impure infant on a bench. 'Twould turn you against life, so 'twould. And the weather's that mean too. To part from Devlin is hard as Nugent knew, to leave the clean tanglesome one lushier than its neighbour enfranchisable fields but let your ghost have no grievance. You're better off, sir, where you are, primesigned in the full of your dress, bloodeagle waistcoat and all, remember- ing your shapes and sizes on the pillow of your babycurls under your sycamore by the keld water where the Tory's clay will scare the varmints and have all you want, pouch, gloves, flask, bricket, kerchief, ring and amberulla, the whole treasure of the pyre, in the land of souls with Homin and Broin Baroke and pole ole Lonan and Nobucketnozzler and the Guinnghis Khan. And we'll be coming here, the ombre players, to rake your gravel and bringing