| quasimodo, royal, sago, tango, umber, vanilla, wisteria, xray, | 1 |
| yesplease, zaza, philomel, theerose. What are they all by? Shee. | 2 |
| If you nude her in her prime, make sure you find her comple- | 3 |
| mentary or, on your very first occasion, by Angus Dagdasson | 4 |
| and all his piccions, she'll prick you where you're proudest with | 5 |
| her unsatt speagle eye. Look sharp, she's signalling from among | 6 |
| the asters. Turn again, wistfultone, lode mere of Doubtlynn! | 7 |
| Arise, Land-under-Wave! Clap your lingua to your pallet, drop | 8 |
| your jowl with a jolt, tambourine until your breath slides, pet a | 9 |
| pout and it's out. Have you got me, Allysloper? | 10 |
| My top it was brought Achill's low, my middle I ope before | 11 |
| you, my bottom's a vulser if ever there valsed and my whole the | 12 |
| flower that stars the day and is solly well worth your pilger's | 13 |
| fahrt. Where there's a hitch, a head of things, let henker's halter | 14 |
| hang the halunkenend. For I see through your weapon. That | 15 |
| cry's not Cucullus. And his eyelids are painted. If my tutor here | 16 |
| is cut out for an oldeborre I'm Flo, shy of peeps, you know. But | 17 |
| when he beetles backwards, ain't I fly? Pull the boughpee to see | 18 |
| how we sleep. Bee Peep! Peepette! Would you like that lump of | 19 |
| a tongue for lungeon or this Turkey's delighter, hys hyphen | 20 |
| mys? My bellyswain's a twalf whulerusspower though he knows | 21 |
| as much how to man a wife as Dunckle Dalton of matching wools. | 22 |
| Shake hands through the thicketloch! Sweet swanwater! My | 23 |
| other is mouthfilled. This kissing wold's full of killing fellows | 24 |
| kneeling voyantly to the cope of heaven. And somebody's com- | 25 |
| ing, I feel for a fect. I've a seeklet to sell thee if old Deanns won't | 26 |
| be threaspanning. When you'll next have the mind to retire to | 27 |
| be wicked this is as dainty a way as any. Underwoods spells bush- | 28 |
| ment's business. So if you sprig poplar you're bound to twig this. | 29 |
| 'Twas my lord of Glendalough benedixed the gape for me that | 30 |
| time at Long Entry, commanding the approaches to my intimast | 31 |
| innermost. Look how they're browthered! Six thirteens at | 32 |
| Blanche de Blanche's of 3 Behind Street and 2 Turnagain Lane. | 33 |
| Awabeg is my callby, Magnus here's my Max, Wonder One's my | 34 |
| cipher and Seven Sisters is my nighbrood. Radouga, Rab will ye | 35 |
| na pick them in their pink of panties. You can colour up till you're | 36 |