| Paza! Paisy! Irine! Areinette! Bridomay! Bentamai! Soso- | 1 |
| sopky! Bebebekka! Bababadkessy! Ghugugoothoyou! Dama! | 2 |
| Damadomina! Takiya! Tokaya! Scioccara! Siuccherillina! Peoc- | 3 |
| chia! Peucchia! Ho Mi Hoping! Ha Me Happinice! Mirra! My- | 4 |
| rha! Solyma! Salemita! Sainta! Sianta! O Peace!), but in self- | 5 |
| righting the balance of his corporeity to reexchange widerem- | 6 |
| brace with the pillarbosom of the Dizzier he loved prettier, be- | 7 |
| tween estellos and venoussas, bad luck to the lie but when next | 8 |
| to nobody expected, their star and gartergazer at the summit of | 9 |
| his climax, he toppled a lipple on to the off and, making a brand- | 10 |
| new start for himself to run down his easting, by blessing hes | 11 |
| sthers with the sign of the southern cross, his bungaloid borsa- | 12 |
| line with the hedgygreen bound blew off in a loveblast (award | 13 |
| for trover!) and Jawjon Redhead, bucketing after, meccamaniac, | 14 |
| (the headless shall have legs!), kingscouriered round with an easy | 15 |
| rush and ready relays by the bridge a stadion beyond Ladycastle | 16 |
| (and what herm but he narrowly missed fouling her buttress for | 17 |
| her but for he acqueducked) and then, cocking a snook at the | 18 |
| stock of his sermons, so mear and yet so fahr from that region's | 19 |
| general, away with him at the double, the hulk of a garron, | 20 |
| pelting after the road, on Shanks's mare, let off like a wind hound | 21 |
| loose (the bouchal! you'd think it was that moment they gave | 22 |
| him the jambos!) with a posse of tossing hankerwaves to his | 23 |
| windward like seraph's summonses on the air and a tempest of | 24 |
| good things in packetshape teeming from all accounts into the | 25 |
| funnel of his fanmail shrimpnet, along the highroad of the | 26 |
| nation, Traitor's Track, following which fond floral fray he was | 27 |
| quickly lost to sight through the statuemen though without a | 28 |
| doubt he was all the more on that same head to memory dear | 29 |
| while Sickerson, that borne of bjoerne, la garde auxiliaire she | 30 |
| murmured, hellyg Ursulinka, full of woe (and how fitlier should | 31 |
| goodboy's hand be shook than by the warmin of her besom | 32 |
| that wrung his swaddles?): Where maggot Harvey kneeled till
bags? | 33 |
| Ate Andrew coos hogdam farvel! | 34 |
| Wethen, now, may the good people speed you, rural Haun, | 35 |
| export stout fellow that you are, the crooner born with sweet | 36 |