| beads went bobbing till she rounded up lost histereve with a | 1 |
| marigold and a cobbler's candle in a side strain of a main drain | 2 |
| of a manzinahurries off Bachelor's Walk. But all that's left to the | 3 |
| last of the Meaghers in the loup of the years prefixed and between | 4 |
| is one kneebuckle and two hooks in the front. Do you tell me. | 5 |
| that now? I do in troth. Orara por Orbe and poor Las Animas! | 6 |
| Ussa, Ulla, we're umbas all! Mezha, didn't you hear it a deluge of | 7 |
| times, ufer and ufer, respund to spond? You deed, you deed! I | 8 |
| need, I need! It's that irrawaddyng I've stoke in my aars. It all | 9 |
| but husheth the lethest zswound. Oronoko ! What's your trouble? | 10 |
| Is that the great Finnleader himself in his joakimono on his statue | 11 |
| riding the high horse there forehengist? Father of Otters, it is | 12 |
| himself! Yonne there! Isset that? On Fallareen Common? You're | 13 |
| thinking of Astley's Amphitheayter where the bobby restrained | 14 |
| you making sugarstuck pouts to the ghostwhite horse of the | 15 |
| Peppers. Throw the cobwebs from your eyes, woman, and spread | 16 |
| your washing proper! It's well I know your sort of slop. Flap! | 17 |
| Ireland sober is Ireland stiff Lord help you, Maria, full of grease, | 18 |
| the load is with me! Your prayers. I sonht zo! Madammangut! | 19 |
| Were you lifting your elbow, tell us, glazy cheeks, in Conway's | 20 |
| Carrigacurra canteen? Was I what, hobbledyhips? Flop! Your | 21 |
| rere gait's creakorheuman bitts your butts disagrees. Amn't I | 22 |
| up since the damp dawn, marthared mary allacook, with Corri- | 23 |
| gan's pulse and varicoarse veins, my pramaxle smashed, Alice | 24 |
| Jane in decline and my oneeyed mongrel twice run over, soaking | 25 |
| and bleaching boiler rags, and sweating cold, a widow like me, | 26 |
| for to deck my tennis champion son, the laundryman with the | 27 |
| lavandier flannels? You won your limpopo limp fron the husky | 28 |
| hussars when Collars and Cuffs was heir to the town and your | 29 |
| slur gave the stink to Carlow. Holy Scamander, I sar it again! | 30 |
| Near the golden falls. Icis on us! Seints of light! Zezere! Subdue | 31 |
| your noise, you hamble creature! What is it but a blackburry | 32 |
| growth or the dwyergray ass them four old codgers owns. Are | 33 |
| you meanam Tarpey and Lyons and Gregory? I meyne now, | 34 |
| thank all, the four of them, and the roar of them, that draves | 35 |
| that stray in the mist and old Johnny MacDougal along with | 36 |