| of Yinko Jinko Randy, come Bastabasco and hippychip eggs, she | 1 |
| will make a suomease pair and singlette, jodhpur smalls and tailor- | 2 |
| less, a copener's cribful, leaf, bud and berry, the divlin's own little | 3 |
| mimmykin puss, (hip, hip, horatia!) for my old comrhade salty- | 4 |
mar here, Briganteen General Sir A. I. Magnus, the flapper- | 5 |
| nooser, master of the good lifebark Ulivengrene of Onslought, | 6 |
| and the homespund of her hearth, (Fuss his farther was the norse | 7 |
| norse east and Muss his mother was a gluepot) and, gravydock or | 8 |
| groovy anker, and a hulldread pursunk manowhood, who (with | 9 |
| a chenchen for his delight time and a bonzeye nappin through his | 10 |
| doze) he is the bettest bluffy blondblubber of an olewidgeon what | 11 |
| overspat a skettle in a skib. | 12 |
| Cawcaught. Coocaged. | 13 |
| And Dub did glow that night. In Fingal of victories. Cann- | 14 |
| matha and Cathlin sang together. And the three shouters of | 15 |
| glory. Yelling halfviewed their harps. Surly Tuhal smiled upon | 16 |
| drear Darthoola: and Roscranna's bolgaboyo begirlified the | 17 |
| daughter of Cormac. The soul of everyelsesbody rolled into its | 18 |
| olesoleself. A doublemonth's licence, lease on mirth, while hooney- | 19 |
| moon and her flame went huneysuckling. Holyryssia, what boom | 20 |
| of bells! What battle of bragues on Sandgate where met the bobby | 21 |
| mobbed his bibby mabbing through the ryce. Even Tombs left | 22 |
| doss and dunnage down in Demidoff's tomb and drew on the | 23 |
| dournailed clogs that Morty Manning left him and legged in by | 24 |
| Ghoststown Gate, like Pompei up to date,with a sprig of White- | 25 |
| boys heather on his late Luke Elcock's heirloom. And some say | 26 |
| they seen old dummydeaf with a leaf of bronze on his cloak | 27 |
| so grey,trooping his colour a pace to the reire. And as owfally | 28 |
| posh with his halfcrown jool as if he was the Granjook Meckl or | 29 |
| Paster de Grace on the Route de l'Epèe. It was joobileejeu that | 30 |
| All Sorts' Jour. Freestouters and publicranks, hafts on glaives. | 31 |
| You could hear them swearing threaties on the Cymylaya | 32 |
| Mountains, man. And giving it out to the Ould Fathach and louth- | 33 |
| mouthing after the Healy Mealy with an enfysis to bring down | 34 |
| the rain of Tarar. Nevertoletta! Evertomind! The grandest | 35 |
| bethehailey seen or heard on earth's conspectrum since Scape | 36 |