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paperming comfirts d'yu draw for all yur swearin? The spanglers,
kiddy?
          Rootha prootha. There you have me! Vurry nothing, O 
potators, I call it for I might as well tell yous Essexelcy, and I
am not swallowing my air, the Golden Bridge's truth. It amounts
to nada in pounds or pence. Not a glass of Lucan nor as much as
the cost price of a highlandman's trousertree or the three crowns
round your draphole (isn't it dram disgusting?) for the whole
dumb plodding thing!
          Come now, Johnny! We weren't born yesterday. Pro tanto 
quid retribuamus? I ask you to say on your scotty pictail you
were promised fines times with some staggerjuice or deadhorse,
on strip or in larges, at the Raven and Sugarloaf, either Jones's
lame or Jamesy's gait, anyhow?
          Bushmillah! Do you think for a moment? Yes, by the way. 
How very necessarily true! Give me fair play. When?
          At the Dove and Raven tavern, no, ah? To wit your wiz- 
zend?                 
          Water, water, darty water! Up Jubilee sod! Beet peat wheat 
treat!
          What harm wants but demands it! How would you like to 
hear yur right name now, Ghazi Power, my tristy minstrel, if
yur not freckened of frank comment?
          Not afrightened of Frank Annybody's gaspower or ill- 
conditioned ulcers neither.
          Your uncles! 
          Your gullet! 
          Will you repeat that to me outside, leinconnmuns? 
          After you've shouted a few? I will when it suits me, 
hulstler.
          Guid! We make fight! Three to one! Raddy? 
          But no, from exemple, Emania Raffaroo! What do you 
have? What mean you, august one? Fairplay for Finnians! I will
have my humours. Sure, you would not do the cowardly thing
and moll me roon? Tell Queen's road I am seilling. Farewell,
but whenever! Buy!