| 1 |
creation? So there was nothing serical between you? And Dry- | 2 |
salter, father of Izod, how was he now? | 3 |
    | 4 |
brustall to the bear, the Megalomagellan of our winevatswater- | 5 |
way, squeezing the life out of the liffey. | 6 |
    | 7 |
He came, he kished, he conquered. Vulturuvarnar! The must of | 8 |
his glancefull coaxing the beam in her eye? That musked bell of | 9 |
this masked ball! Annabella, Lovabella, Pullabella, yep? | 10 |
    | 11 |
was lithe and pleasable. Wilt thou the lee? Wilt thou the hee? | 12 |
Wilt thou the hussif? | 13 |
    | 14 |
the mightier the stricker the strait. To the vast go the game! It | 15 |
is the circumconversioning of antelithual paganelles by a hugger- | 16 |
knut cramwell energuman, or the caecodedition of an absque- | 17 |
litteris puttagonnianne to the herreraism of a cabotinesque ex- | 18 |
ploser? | 19 |
    | 20 |
    | 21 |
kavos now arbatos above our hearths doth hum. And Malkos | 22 |
crackles logs of fun while Anglys cheers our ingles. So lent she | 23 |
him ear to burrow his manhood (or so it appierce) and borrow | 24 |
his namas? Suilful eyes and sallowfoul hairweed and the sickly | 25 |
sigh from her gingering mouth like a Dublin bar in the moarning. | 26 |
    | 27 |
    | 28 |
my fortune? | 29 |
    | 30 |
Flatter O'Ford, that, honey, I hurdley chew you. | 31 |
    | 32 |
    | 33 |
    | 34 |
Tiltass, but are you solarly salemly sure, beyond the shatter of | 35 |
the canicular year? Nascitur ordo seculi numfit. | 36 |