to bride with Tristis Tristior Tristissimus. But, sweet madonine, | 1 |
she might fair as well have carried her daisy's worth to Florida. | 2 |
For the Mookse, a dogmad Accanite, were not amoosed and the | 3 |
Gripes, a dubliboused Catalick, wis pinefully obliviscent. | 4 |
    I see, she sighed. There are menner. | 5 |
    The siss of the whisp of the sigh of the softzing at the stir of | 6 |
the ver grose O arundo of a long one in midias reeds: and shades | 7 |
began to glidder along the banks, greepsing, greepsing, duusk | 8 |
unto duusk, and it was as glooming as gloaming could be in the | 9 |
waste of all peacable worlds. Metamnisia was allsoonome coloro- | 10 |
form brune; citherior spiane an eaulande, innemorous and un- | 11 |
numerose. The Mookse had a sound eyes right but he could not | 12 |
all hear. The Gripes had light ears left yet he could but ill see. | 13 |
He ceased. And he ceased, tung and trit, and it was neversoever | 14 |
so dusk of both of them. But still Moo thought on the deeps of | 15 |
the undths he would profoundth come the morrokse and still | 16 |
Gri feeled of the scripes he would escipe if by grice he had luck | 17 |
enoupes. | 18 |
    Oh, how it was duusk! From Vallee Maraia to Grasyaplaina, | 19 |
dormimust echo! Ah dew! Ah dew! It was so duusk that the | 20 |
tears of night began to fall, first by ones and twos, then by threes | 21 |
and fours, at last by fives and sixes of sevens, for the tired ones | 22 |
were wecking, as we weep now with them. O! O! O! Par la | 23 |
pluie! | 24 |
    Then there came down to the thither bank a woman of no | 25 |
appearance (I believe she was a Black with chills at her feet) and | 26 |
she gathered up his hoariness the Mookse motamourfully where | 27 |
he was spread and carried him away to her invisible dwelling, | 28 |
thats hights, Aquila Rapax, for he was the holy sacred solem and | 29 |
poshup spit of her boshop's apron. So you see the Mookse he | 30 |
had reason as I knew and you knew and he knew all along. And | 31 |
there came down to the hither bank a woman to all important | 32 |
(though they say that she was comely, spite the cold in her heed) | 33 |
and, for he was as like it as blow it to a hawker's hank, she | 34 |
plucked down the Gripes, torn panicky autotone, in angeu from | 35 |
his limb and cariad away its beotitubes with her to her unseen | 36 |