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          They were simple scandalmongers, that familiar, and all! 
Normand, Desmond, Osmund and Kenneth. Making mejical
history all over the show!
          In sum, some hum? And other marrage feats? 
          All our stakes they were astumbling round the ranky roars 
assumbling when Big Arthur flugged the field at Annie's courting.
          Suddenly some wellfired clay was cast out through the 
schappsteckers of hoy's house?
          Schottenly there was a hellfire club kicked out through the 
wasistas of Thereswhere.
          Like Heavystost's envil catacalamitumbling. Three days 
three times into the Vulcuum?
          Punch! 
          Or Noe et Ecclesiastes, nonne? 
          Ninny, there is no hay in Eccles's hostel. 
          Yet an I saw a sign of him, if you could scrape out his 
acquinntence? Name or redress him and we'll call it a night!
    .i..'. .o..l .
          You are sure it was not a shuler's shakeup or a plighter's 
palming or a winker's wake etcaetera etcaeterorum you were at?
          Precisely. 
          Mayhap. Hora pro Nubis, Thundersday, at A Little Bit Of 
Heaven Howth, the wife of Deimetuus (D'amn), Earl Adam Fitz-
adam, of a Tartar (Birtha) or Sackville-Lawry and Morland-
West, at the Auspice for the Living,Bonnybrook, by the river
and A. Briggs Carlisle, guardian of the birdsmaids and deputil-
iser for groom. Pontifical mess. Or (soddenly) Schott, furtivfired
by the riots. No flies. Agreest?
          Mayhem. Also loans through the post. With or without 
security. Everywhere. Any amount. Mofsovitz, swampstakers,
purely providential.
          Flood's. The pinkman, the squeeze, the pint with the kick. 
Gaa. And then the punch to Gaelicise it. Fox. The lady with the
lamp. The boy in the barleybag. The old man on his ars. Great
Scrapp! 'Tis we and you and ye and me and hymns and hurts and
heels and shields. The eirest race, the ourest nation, the airest place