granyou and Vae Vinctis, if that is what lamoor that of gentle	1
breast rathe is intaken seems circling toward out yondest (it's	2
life that's all chokered by that batch of grim rushers) heaven	3
help his hindmost and, mark mo, if the so greatly displeaced	4
diorems in the Saint Lubbock's Day number of that most improv-	5
ing of roundshows, Spice and Westend Woman (utterly exhausted	6
before publication, indiapepper edition shortly), are for our in-	7
dices, it agins to pear like it,par my fay,and there is no use for your	8
pastripreaching for to cheesse it either or praying fresh fleshblood	9
claspers of young catholick throats on Huggin Green 1 to take	10
warning by the prispast, why?, by cows man, in shirt, is how	11
he is più la gonna è mobile and they wonet do ut; and, an you	12
could peep inside the cerebralised saucepan of this eer illwinded	13
goodfornobody, you would see in his house of thoughtsam (was	14
you, that is, decontaminated enough to look discarnate) what a	15
jetsam litterage of convolvuli of times lost or strayed, of lands	16
derelict and of tongues laggin too, longa yamsayore, not only that	17
but, search lighting, beached, bashed and beaushelled à la Mer	18
pharahead into faturity, your own convolvulis pickninnig capman	19
would real to jazztfancy the novo takin place of what stale words	20
whilom were woven with and fitted fairly featly for, so; and	21
equally so, the crame of the whole faustian fustian, whether your	22
launer's lightsome or your soulard's schwearmood, it is that,	23
whenas the swiftshut scareyss of our pupilteachertaut duplex will	24
hark back to lark to you symibellically that, though a day be as	25
dense as a decade, no mouth has the might to set a mearbound to	26
the march of a landsmaul, 2 in half a sylb, helf a solb, holf a salb on-	27
ward 3 the beast of boredom, common sense, lurking gyrographi-	28
cally down inside his loose Eating S.S. collar is gogoing of	29
whisth to you sternly how       Plutonic loveliaks twinnt Platonic	30
yearlings       you must, how, in undivided reawlity draw the line	31
somewhawre)	32
1 Where Buickly of the Glass and Bellows pumped the Rudge engineral.
2 Matter of Brettaine and brut fierce.
3 Bussmullah, cried Lord Wolsley, how me Aunty Mag'll row!