| You've surpassed yourself! Be introduced to yes! This is me aunt | 1 |
| Julia Bride, your honour, dying to have you languish to scan- | 2 |
| dal in her bosky old delltangle. You don't reckoneyes him? He's | 3 |
| Jackot the Horner who boxed in his corner, jilting no fewer than | 4 |
| three female bribes. That's his penals. Shervorum! You haven't | 5 |
| seen her since she stepped into her drawoffs. Come on, spinister, | 6 |
| do your stuff! Don't be shoy, husbandmanvir! Weih, what's on | 7 |
| you, wip? Up the shamewaugh! She has plenty of woom in the | 8 |
| smallclothes for the bothsforus, nephews push! Hatch yourself | 9 |
| well! Enjombyourselves thurily! Would you wait biss she buds | 10 |
| till you bite on her? Embrace her bashfully by almeans at my | 11 |
| frank incensive and tell her in your semiological agglutinative yez, | 12 |
| how Idos be asking after her. Let us be holy and evil and let her | 13 |
| be peace on the bough. Sure, she fell in line with our tripertight | 14 |
| photos as the lyonised mails when we were stablelads together | 15 |
| like the corks again brothers, hungry and angry, cavileer | 16 |
| grace by roundhered force, or like boyrun to sibster, me and | 17 |
| you, shinners true and pinchme, our tertius quiddus, that never | 18 |
| talked or listened. Always raving how we had the wrinkles of | 19 |
| a snailcharmer and the slits and sniffers of a fellow that fell foul | 20 |
| of the county de Loona and the meattrap of the first vegetarian. | 21 |
| To be had for the asking. Have a hug! Take her out of poor | 22 |
| tuppeny luck before she goes off in pure treple licquidance. I'd | 23 |
| give three shillings a pullet to the canon for the conjugation to | 24 |
| shadow you kissing her from me leberally all over as if she was a | 25 |
| crucifix. It's good for her bilabials, you understand. There's no- | 26 |
| thing like the mistletouch for finding a queen's earring false. | 27 |
| Chink chink. As the curly bard said after kitchin the womn in | 28 |
| his hym to the hum of her garments. You try a little tich to the | 29 |
| tissle of his tail. The racist to the racy, rossy. The soil is for the | 30 |
| self alone. Be ownkind. Be kithkinish. Be bloodysibby. Be irish. | 31 |
| Be inish. Be offalia. Be hamlet. Be the property plot. Be Yorick | 32 |
| and Lankystare. Be cool. Be mackinamucks of yourselves. Be | 33 |
| finish. No martyr where the preature is there's no plagues like | 34 |
| rome. It gives up the gripes. Watch the swansway. Take your | 35 |
| tiger over it. The leady on the lake and the convict of the forest. | 36 |