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[[TOC]] [[Page 170]] [[Page 172]] swamp of bogoakgravy for that greekenhearted [[yude]]! Rosbif of Old Zealand! he could not attouch it. See what happens when your somatophage merman takes his fancy to our virgitarian swan? He even ran away with hunself and became a farsoonerite, saying he would far sooner muddle through the hash of lentils in Europe than meddle with Irrland's split little pea. Once when among those rebels in a state of hopelessly helpless intoxication the piscivore strove to lift a czitround peel to either nostril, hic- cupping, apparently impromptued by the hibat he had with his glottal stop, that he [[kukkakould]] flowrish for ever by the smell, as the czitr, as the kcedron, like a [[scedar]], of the founts, on moun- tains, with limon on, of Lebanon. O! the lowness of him was beneath all up to that sunk to! No likedbylike firewater or first- served firstshot or gulletburn gin or honest brewbarrett beer either. O dear no! Instead the tragic jester sobbed himself wheywhing- ingly sick of life on some sort of a [[rhubarbarous maundarin yellagreen funkleblue windigut diodying|rhubarbarous maundarin yella]]- [[rhubarbarous maundarin yellagreen funkleblue windigut diodying|green funkleblue windigut diodying]] applejack squeezed from sour grapefruice and, to hear him twixt his sedimental cupslips when he had gulfed down mmmmuch too mmmmany gourds of it retching off to almost as low withswillers, who always knew notwithstanding when they had had enough and were rightly indignant at the wretch's hospitality when they found to their horror they could not carry another drop, it came straight from the noble white fat, jo, openwide sat, jo, jo, her why hide that, jo jo jo, the winevat, of the most serene magyansty az archdio- chesse, if she is a duck, she's a douches, and when she has a feherbour snot her fault, now is it? artstouchups, funny you're grinning at, fancy you're in her yet, Fanny Urinia. Aint that swell, hey? Peamengro! Talk about lowness! Any dog's quantity of it visibly oozed out thickly from this dirty little blacking beetle for the very fourth snap the Tulloch-Turn- bull girl with her coldblood kodak shotted the as yet unre- muneranded national apostate, who was cowardly gun and camera shy, taking what he fondly thought was a short cut to Caer Fere, Soak Amerigas, vias the shipsteam <I>Pridewin</I>, after having buried a hatchet not so long before, by the wrong goods exeunt, num-

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