Difference between revisions of "Page 232"

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  orlop in a simplasailormade and shaking the storm out of his
 
  orlop in a simplasailormade and shaking the storm out of his
 
  hiccups. The smartest vessel you could find would elazilee him
 
  hiccups. The smartest vessel you could find would elazilee him
  on her knee as her lucky for the Rio Grande. He's a pigtaiI tarr
+
  on her knee as her lucky for [[the Rio Grande]]. He's a pigtaiI tarr
 
 

Revision as of 10:00, 28 December 2005

TOC

Page 231 Page 233

Cokerycokes, it's his spurt of coal. And may his tarpitch dilute
not give him chromitis! For the mauwe that blinks you blank is
mostly Carbo. Where the inflammabilis might pursuive his com-
burenda with a pure flame and a true flame and a flame all too-
gasser, soot. The worst is over. Wait! And the dubuny Mag may
gang to preesses. With Dinny Finneen, me canty, ho! In the lost
of the gleamens. Sousymoust. For he would himself deal a treat-
ment as might be trusted in anticipation of his inculmination unto
fructification for the major operation. When (pip!) a message
interfering intermitting interskips from them (pet!) on herzian
waves, (call her venicey names! call her a stell!) a butterfly from
her zipclasped handbag, a wounded dove astarted from, escaping
out her forecotes. Isle wail for yews, O doherlynt! The poetesser.
And around its scorched cap she has twilled a twine of flame to
let the laitiest know she's marrid. And pim it goes backballed. Tot
burns it so leste. A claribel cumbeck to errind. Hers before his
even, posted ere penned. He's your change, thinkyou methim.
Go daft noon,madden, mind the step. Please stoop O to please.
Stop. What saying? I have soreunder from to him now, dear-
mate ashore, so, so compleasely till I can get redressed, which
means the end of my stays in the languish of Tintangle. Is you
zealous of mes, brother? Did you boo moiety lowd? You sup-
poted to be the on conditiously rejected? Satanly, lade! Can that
sobstuff, whingeywilly! Stop up, mavrone, and sit in my lap,
Pepette, though I'd much rather not. Like things are m. ds. is all
in vincibles. Decoded.
    Now a run for his money! Now a dash to her dot! Old cocker, 
young crowy sifadda, sosson. A bran new, speedhount, out-
stripperous on the wind. Like a waft to wingweary one or a sos
to a coastguard. For directly with his whoop, stop and an upa-
lepsy didando a tishy, in appreciable less time than it takes a
glaciator to submerger an Atlangthis, was he again, agob, before
the trembly ones, a spark's gap off, doubledasguesched, gotten
orlop in a simplasailormade and shaking the storm out of his
hiccups. The smartest vessel you could find would elazilee him
on her knee as her lucky for the Rio Grande. He's a pigtaiI tarr