| hod's fush, 3) all ever the pelican huntered with truly fond bull- | 1 |
| pen backthought since his toork human life where his personal | 2 |
| low outhired his taratoryism, the orenore under the selfhide of his | 3 |
| bessermettle, was forsake in his chiltern and lumbojumbo, 4) he | 4 |
| was like Fintan fore flood and after sometimes too damned | 5 |
| merely often on the saved side, saw he was, 5) regarding to | 6 |
| prussyattes or quazzyverzing he wassand no better than he would | 7 |
| have been before he could have been better than what he warrant | 8 |
| after, 6) blood, musk or haschish, as coked, diamoned or pence- | 9 |
| loid, and bleaching him naclenude from all cohlorine matter, | 10 |
| down to a boneash bittstoff, he's, tink fors tank, the same old | 11 |
| dustamount on the same old tincoverdull baubleclass, totstitty- | 12 |
| winktosser and bogusbagwindburster, whether fitting tyres onto | 13 |
| Danelope boys or fluttering flaus for laurettas, whatever the | 14 |
| bucket brigade and the plug party says, touchant Arser of the | 15 |
| Rum Tipple and his camelottery and lyonesslooting but with a | 16 |
| layaman's brutstrenth, by Jacohob and Esahur and the all saults | 17 |
| or all sallies, what we warn to hear, jeff, is the woods of chirpsies | 18 |
| cries to singaloo sweecheeriode and sock him up, the oldcant | 19 |
| rogue. | 20 |
| Group A. | 21 |
| You have jest (a ham) beamed listening through (a ham pig) | 22 |
| his haulted excerpt from John Whiston's fiveaxled production, | 23 |
| The Coach With The Six Insides, from the Tales of Yore of the | 24 |
| times gone by before there was a hofdking or a hoovthing or a | 25 |
| pinginapoke in Oreland, all sould. Goes Tory by Eeric Whigs is | 26 |
| To Become Tintinued in Fearson's Nightly in the Lets All Wake | 27 |
| Brickfaced In Lucan. Lhirondella, jaunty lhirondella! With tirra | 28 |
| lirra rondinelles, atantivy we go! | 29 |
| Attention! Stand at!! Ease!!! | 30 |
| We are now diffusing among our lovers of this sequence (to | 31 |
| you! to you!) the dewfolded song of the naughtingels (Alys! | 32 |
| Alysaloe!) from their sheltered positions, in rosescenery hay- | 33 |
| dyng, on the heather side of waldalure, Mount Saint John's, | 34 |
| Jinnyland, whither our allies winged by duskfoil from Moore- | 35 |
| parque, swift sanctuary seeking, after Sunsink gang (Oiboe! | 36 |