| read we in must book. It tells. He prophets | 1 | ||
| most who bilks the best. | 2 | ||
| And that salubrated sickenagiaour of yaours | COME SI | 3 | |
| have teaspilled all my hazeydency. Forge away, | COMPITA | 4 | |
| Sunny Sim! Sheepshopp. Bleating Goad, it is | CUNCTITI- | 5 | |
| the least of things, Eyeinstye! Imagine it, my | TITILATIO? | 6 | |
| deep dartry dullard! It is hours giving, not | CONKERY | 7 | |
| more. I'm only out for celebridging over the | CUNK, | 8 | |
| guilt of the gap in your hiscitendency. You are | THIGH- | 9 | |
| a hundred thousand times welcome, old wort- | THIGHT- | 10 | |
| sampler, hellbeit you're just about as culpable | TICKELLY- | 11 | |
| The Twofold | as my woolfell merger would be. In effect I | THIGH, LIG- | 12 |
| Truth and the | could engage in an energument over you till | GERILAG, | 13 |
| Conjunctive Ap- | you were republicly royally toobally prussic | TITTERITOT, | 14 |
| petites of Oppo- | blue in the shirt after. 1 Trionfante di bestia! And | LEG IN A TEE, | 15 |
| sitional Orexes. | if you're not your bloater's kipper may I never | LUG IN A | 16 |
| curse again on that pint I took of Jamesons. | LAW, TWO | 17 | |
| Old Keane now, you're rod, hook and sinker, | AT A TIE, | 18 | |
| old jubalee Keane! Biddy's hair. Biddy's hair, | THREE ON A | 19 | |
| mine lubber. Where is that Quin but he sknows | THRICKY | 20 | |
| it knot but what you that are my popular end- | TILL OHIO | 21 | |
| phthisis were born with a solver arm up your | OHIO | 22 | |
| Trishagion. | sleep. Thou in shanty ! Thou in scanty shanty ! ! | IOIOMISS. | 22 |
| Thou in slanty scanty shanty! ! ! Bide in your | 23 | ||
| hush! Bide in your hush, do! The law does | 24 | ||
| not aloud you to shout. I plant my penstock | 25 | ||
| in your postern, chinarpot. Ave! And let it be | 26 | ||
| to all remembrance. Vale. Ovocation of maid- | 27 | ||
| ing waters. 2 For auld lang salvy steyne. I | 28 | ||
| defend you to champ my scullion's praises. | 29 | ||
| To book alone belongs the lobe. Foremaster's | 30 | ||
| meed 3 will mark tomorrow, when we are | 31 | ||
| making pilscrummage to whaboggeryin with | 32 | ||
| 1 From three shellings. A bluedye sacrifice. | |||
| 2 Not Kilty. But the manajar was. He! He! Ho! Ho! Ho! | |||
| 3 Giglamps, Soapy Geyser, The Smell and Gory M Gusty. | |||