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when closehended together behind locked doors, kissing steadily,
(malbongusta, it's not the thing you know!) with the calfloving
selfseeker, under the influence of woman, inching up to you, dis-
arranging your modesties and fumbling with his forte paws in your
bodice after your billy doos twy as a first go off (take care, would
you stray and split on me!) and going on doing his idiot every
time you gave him his chance to get thick and play pigglywiggly,
making much of you, bilgetalking like a ditherer, gougouzoug,
about your glad neck and the round globe and the white milk and
the red raspberries (O horrifier!) and prying down furthermore to
chance his lucky arm with his pregnant questions up to our past
lives. What has that caught to sing with him? The next fling
you'll be squitting on the Tubber Nakel, pouring pitchers to the
well for old Gloatsdane's glorification and the postequities of
the Black Watch, peeping private from the Bush and Rangers.
And our local busybody, talker-go-bragk. Worse again! Off of
that praying fan on to them priars! It would be a whorable state
of affairs altogether for the redcolumnists of presswritten epics,
Peter Paragraph and Paulus Puff, (I'm keepsoaking them to cover
my concerts) to get ahold of for their balloons and shoot you
private by surprise, considering the marriage slump that's on this
oil age and pulexes three shillings a pint and wives at six and
seven when domestic calamities belame par and newlaids bellow
mar for the twenty twotoosent time thwealthy took thousands
in the slack march of civilisation were you, becoming guilty of
unleckylike intoxication to have and to hold, to pig and to pay
direct connection, qua intervener, with a prominent married member
of the vicereeking squad and,in consequence of the therein-
under subpenas,be flummoxed to the second degree by becoming a
detestificated companykeeper on the dammymonde of Luca-
lamplight. Anything but that, for the fear and love of gold! Once
and for all, I'll have no college swankies (you see, I am well
voiced in love's arsenal and all its overtures from collion boys
to colleen bawns so I have every reason to know that rogues'
gallery of nightbirds and bitchfanciers, lucky duffs and light
lindsays, haughty hamiltons and gay gordons, dosed, doctored