| Yet he begottom. | 1 |
| Let us wherefore, tearing ages, presently preposterose a | 2 |
| snatchvote of thanksalot to the huskiest coaxing experimenter | 3 |
| that ever gave his best hand into chancerisk, wishing him with | 4 |
| his famblings no end of slow poison and a mighty broad venue | 5 |
| for themselves between the devil's punchbowl and the deep | 6 |
| angleseaboard, that they may gratefully turn a deaf ear clooshed | 7 |
| upon the desperanto of willynully, their shareholders from Taaffe | 8 |
| to Auliffe, that will curse them below par and mar with their | 9 |
| descendants, shame, humbug and profit, to greenmould upon | 10 |
| mildew over jaundice as long as ever there's wagtail surtaxed to | 11 |
| a testcase on enver a man. | 12 |
| We have to had them whether we'll like it or not. They'll have | 13 |
| to have us now then we're here on theirspot. Scant hope theirs | 14 |
| or ours to escape life's high carnage of semperidentity by sub- | 15 |
| sisting peasemeal upon variables. Bloody certainly have we got | 16 |
| to see to it ere smellful demise surprends us on this concrete that | 17 |
| down the gullies of the eras we may catch ourselves looking | 18 |
| forward to what will in no time be staring you larrikins on the | 19 |
| postface in that multimirror megaron of returningties, whirled | 20 |
| without end to end. So there was a raughty . . . who in Dyfflins- | 21 |
| borg did . . . With his soddering iron, spadeaway, hammerlegs | 22 |
| and . . . Where there was a fair young . . . Who was playing her | 23 |
| game of . . . And said she you rockaby . . . Will you peddle in | 24 |
| my bog . . . And he sod her in Iarland, paved her way from | 25 |
| Maizenhead to Youghal. And that's how Humpfrey, champion | 26 |
| emir, holds his own. Shysweet, she rests. | 27 |
| Or show pon him now, will you! Derg rudd face should take | 28 |
| patrick's purge. Hokoway, in his hiphigh bearserk! Third posi- | 29 |
| tion of concord! Excellent view from front. Sidome. Female | 30 |
| imperfectly masking male. Redspot his browbrand. Woman's | 31 |
| the prey! Thon's the dullakeykongsbyogblagroggerswagginline | 32 |
| (private judgers, change here for Lootherstown! Onlyromans, | 33 |
| keep your seats!) that drew all ladies please to our great mettroll- | 34 |
| ops. Leary, leary, twentytun nearly, he's plotting kings down | 35 |
| for his villa's extension! Gaze at him now in momentum! As his | 36 |