Difference between revisions of "Page 462"
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[[Page 461]] [[Page 463]] | [[Page 461]] [[Page 463]] | ||
− | eucherised to yous. Also <I>sacré père </I>and<I> maître d'autel. </I>Well, | + | [[eucherised]] to yous. Also <I>sacré père </I>and<I> maître d'autel. </I>Well, |
ladies upon gentlermen and toastmaster general, let us, brindising | ladies upon gentlermen and toastmaster general, let us, brindising | ||
brandisong, woo and win womenlong with health to rich vine- | brandisong, woo and win womenlong with health to rich vine- |
Revision as of 22:19, 6 February 2018
eucherised to yous. Also sacré père and maître d'autel. Well, ladies upon gentlermen and toastmaster general, let us, brindising brandisong, woo and win womenlong with health to rich vine- yards, Erin go Dry! Amingst the living waters of, the living in giving waters of. Tight! Loose! A stiff one for Staffetta mullified with creams of hourmony, the coupe that's chill for jackless jill and a filiform dhouche on Doris! Esterelles, be not on your weeping what though Shaunathaun is in his fail! To stir up love's young fizz I tilt with this bridle's cup champagne, dimming douce from her peepair of hideseeks, tightsqueezed on my snowybrusted and while my pearlies in their sparkling wisdom are nippling her bubblets I swear (and let you swear!) by the bumper round of my poor old snaggletooth's solidbowel I ne'er will prove I'm untrue to your liking (theare!) so long as my hole looks. Down. So gullaby, me poor Isley! But I'm not for forgetting me innerman monophone for I'm leaving my darling proxy behind for your consolering, lost Dave the Dancekerl, a squamous run- away and a dear old man pal of mine too. He will arrive inces- santly in the fraction of a crust, who, could he quit doubling and stop tippling, he would be the unicorn of his kind. He's the mightiest penumbrella I ever flourished on behond the shadow of a post! Be sure and link him, me O treasauro, as often as you learn provided there's nothing between you but a plain deal table only don't encourage him to cry lessontimes over Lepers- town. But soft! Can't be? Do mailstanes mumble? Lumtum lumtum! Now! The froubadour! I fremble! Talk of wolf in a stomach by all that's verminous! Eccolo me! The return of th'athlate! Who can secede to his success! Isn't Jaunstown, Ousterrike, the small place after all? I knew I smelt the garlic leek! Why, bless me swits, here he its, darling Dave, like the catoninelives just in time as if he fell out of space, all draped in mufti, coming home to mourn mountains from his old continence and not on one foot either or on two feet aether but on quinquisecular cycles after his French evolution and a blindfold passage by the 4.32 with the pork's pate in his suicide paw and the gulls laughing lime on his natural skunk,