| self with an elusive Antonius, a wop who would appear to hug | 1 |
| a personal interest in refined chees of all chades at the same time | 2 |
| as he wags an antomine art of being rude like the boor. This | 3 |
| Antonius-Burrus-Caseous grouptriad may be said to equate | 4 |
| the qualis equivalent with the older socalled talis on talis one | 5 |
| just as quantly as in the hyperchemical economantarchy the tan- | 6 |
| tum ergons irruminate the quantum urge so that eggs is to whey | 7 |
| as whay is to zeed like your golfchild's abe boob caddy. And this | 8 |
| is why any simple philadolphus of a fool you like to dress, an | 9 |
| athemisthued lowtownian, exlegged phatrisight, may be awfully | 10 |
| green to one side of him and fruitfully blue on the other which | 11 |
| will not screen him however from appealing to my gropesarch- | 12 |
| ing eyes, through the strongholes of my acropoll, as a boosted | 13 |
| blasted bleating blatant bloaten blasphorus blesphorous idiot | 14 |
| who kennot tail a bomb from a painapple when he steals one | 15 |
| and wannot psing his psalmen with the cong in our gregational | 16 |
| pompoms with the canting crew. | 17 |
| No! Topsman to your Tarpeia! This thing, Mister Abby, is | 18 |
| nefand. (And, taking off soutstuffs and alkalike matters, I hope | 19 |
| we can kill time to reach the salt because there's some forceglass | 20 |
| neutric assets bittering in the soldpewter for you to plump your | 21 |
| pottage in). The thundering legion has stormed Olymp that | 22 |
| it end. Twelve tabular times till now have I edicted it. Merus | 23 |
| Genius to Careous Caseous! Moriture, te salutat! My phemous | 24 |
| themis race is run, so let Demoncracy take the highmost! (Abra- | 25 |
| ham Tripier. Those old diligences are quite out of date. Read | 26 |
| next answer). I'll beat you so lon. (Bigtempered. Why not take | 27 |
| direct action. See previous reply). My unchanging Word is sacred. | 28 |
| The word is my Wife, to exponse and expound, to vend and to | 29 |
| velnerate, and may the curlews crown our nuptias! Till Breath | 30 |
| us depart! Wamen. Beware would you change with my years. Be | 31 |
| as young as your grandmother! The ring man in the rong shop | 32 |
| but the rite words by the rote order! Ubi lingua nuncupassit, ibi | 33 |
| fas! Adversus hostem semper sac! She that will not feel my ful- | 34 |
| moon let her peel to thee as the hoyden and the impudent! That | 35 |
| mon that hoth no moses in his sole nor is not awed by conquists | 36 |