| to make them look so rosetop glowstop nostop. I know her. | 1 |
| Slight me, would she? For every got I care! Three creamings a | 2 |
| day, the first during her shower and wipe off with tissue. Then | 3 |
| after cleanup and of course before retiring. Beme shawl, when I | 4 |
| think of that espos of a Clancarbry, the foodbrawler, of the socia- | 5 |
| tionist party with hiss blackleaded chest, hello, Prendregast! | 6 |
| that you, Innkipper, and all his fourteen other fullback maulers | 7 |
| or hurling stars or whatever the dagos they are, baiting at my | 8 |
| Lord Ornery's, just becups they won the egg and spoon there | 9 |
| so ovally provencial at Balldole. My Eilish assent he seed makes | 10 |
| his admiracion. He is seeking an opening and means to be first | 11 |
| with me as his belle alliance. Andoo musnoo play zeloso! Soso | 12 |
| do todas. Such is Spanish. Stoop alittle closer, fealse! Delight- | 13 |
| some simply! Like Jolio and Romeune. I haven't fell so turkish | 14 |
| for ages and ages! Mine's me of squisious, the chocolate with | 15 |
| a soul. Extraordinary! Why, what are they all, the mucky lot | 16 |
| of them only? Sht! I wouldn't pay three hairpins for them. Peppt! | 17 |
| That's rights, hold it steady! Leg me pull. Pu! Come big to Iran. | 18 |
| Poo! What are you nudging for? No, I just thought you were. | 19 |
| Listen, loviest! Of course it was too kind of you, miser, to re- | 20 |
| member my sighs in shockings, my often expressed wish when | 21 |
| you were wandering about my trousseaurs and before I forget it | 22 |
| don't forget, in your extensions to my personality, when knotting | 23 |
| my remembrancetie, shoeweek will be trotting back with red | 24 |
| heels at the end of the moon but look what the fool bought | 25 |
| cabbage head and, as I shall answer to gracious heaven, I'll | 26 |
| always in always remind of snappy new girters, me being always | 27 |
| the one for charms with my very best in proud and gloving | 28 |
| even if he was to be vermillion miles my youth to live on, | 29 |
| the rubberend Mr Polkingtone, the quonian fleshmonger who | 30 |
| Mother Browne solicited me for unlawful converse with, with | 31 |
| her mug of October (a pots on it!), creaking around on his old | 32 |
| shanksaxle like a crosty old cornquake. Airman, waterwag, terrier, | 33 |
| blazer! I'm fine, thanks ever! Ha! O mind you poo tickly. Sall I | 34 |
| puhim in momou. Mummum. Funny spot to have a fingey! I'm | 35 |
| terribly sorry, I swear to you I am! May you never see me in my | 36 |