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to scherts. 1 Scholium, there are trist sigheds to
  
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everysing but ichs on the freed brings euchs to
  
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the feared. Qued? Mother of us all! O, dear
  
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me, look at that now! I don't know is it your
  
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spictre or my omination but I'm glad you
  
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dimentioned it ! My Lourde ! My Lourde ! If
  
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that aint just the beatenest lay I ever see ! And
  
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a superpbosition ! Quoint a quincidence ! O.K.
  
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Omnius Kollidimus. As Ollover Krumwall
  
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sayed when he slepped ueber his grannya-
  
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mother. Kangaroose feathers. Who in the name
  
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of thunder'd ever belevin you were that bolt?
  
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But you're holy mooxed and gaping up the
  
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wrong palce 2 as if you was seeheeing the gheist
  
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that stays forenenst, you blessed simpletop
  
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domefool! Where's your belested loiternan's
  
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lamp? You must lap wandret down the bluish-
  
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ing refluction below. Her trunk's not her brain-
  
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box. Hear where the bolgylines, Yseen here the
  
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puncture. So he done it. Luck! See her good.
  
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Well, well, well, well! O dee, O dee, that's
  
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very lovely ! We like Simperspreach Hammel-
  
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tones to fellow Selvertunes O'Haggans. 3 When
  
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he rolls over his ars and shows the hise of his
  
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heels. Vely lovely entilely! Like a yangsheep-
  
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slang with the tsifengtse. So analytical plaus-
  
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ible ! And be the powers of Moll Kelly, neigh-
  
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bour topsowyer, it will be a lozenge to me all
  
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my lauffe. 4 More better twofeller we been speak
  
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copperads. Ever thought about Guinness's?
  
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And the regrettable Parson Rome's advice?
  
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