| and Bruda Pszths and Brat Slavos. One temp when he foiled to | 1 |
| be killed, the freak wanted to put his bilingual head intentionally | 2 |
| through the Ikish Tames and go and join the clericy as a demoni- | 3 |
| can skyterrier. Throwing dust in the eyes of the Hooley Fer- | 4 |
| mers! He used to be avowdeed as he ought to be vitandist. For | 5 |
| onced I squeaked by twyst I'll squelch him. Then he went to | 6 |
| Cecilia's treat on his solo to pick up Galen. Asbestopoulos! Inku- | 7 |
| pot! He has encaust in the blood. Shim! I have the outmost con- | 8 |
| tempt for. Prost bitten! Conshy! Tiberia is waiting on you, | 9 |
| arestocrank! Chaka a seagull ticket at Gattabuia and Gabbiano's! | 10 |
| Go o'er the sea, haythen, from me and leave your libber to TCD. | 11 |
| Your puddin is cooked! You're served, cram ye! Fatefully | 12 |
| yaourth . . . Ex. Ex. Ex. Ex. | 13 |
But for what, thrice truthful teller, Shaun of grace? weakly | 14 |
| we went on to ask now of the gracious one. Vouchsafe to say. | 15 |
| You will now, goodness, won't you? Why? | 16 |
For his root language, if you ask me whys, Shaun replied, | 17 |
| as he blessed himself devotionally like a crawsbomb, making act | 18 |
| of oblivion, footinmouther! (what the thickuns else?) which he | 19 |
| picksticked into his lettruce invrention. Ullhodturdenweirmud- | 20 |
| gaardgringnirurdrmolnirfenrirlukkilokkibaugimandodrrerin- | 21 |
| surtkrinmgernrackinarockar! Thor's for yo! | 22 |
The hundredlettered name again, last word of perfect lan- | 23 |
| guage. But you could come near it, we do suppose, strong Shaun | 24 |
| O', we foresupposed. How? | 25 |
Peax! Peax! Shaun replied in vealar penultimatum. 'Tis | 26 |
| pebils before Sweeney's as he swigged a slug of Jon Jacobsen | 27 |
| from his treestem sucker cane. Mildbut likesome! I might as | 28 |
| well be talking to the four waves till tibbes grey eves and the | 29 |
| rests asleep. Frost! Nope! No one in his seven senses could as | 30 |
| I have before said, only you missed my drift, for it's being in- | 31 |
| cendiary. Every dimmed letter in it is a copy and not a few of the | 32 |
| silbils and wholly words I can show you in my Kingdom of | 33 |
| Heaven. The lowquacity of him! With his threestar monothong! | 34 |
| Thaw! The last word in stolentelling! And what's more right- | 35 |
| down lowbrown schisthematic robblemint! Yes. As he was rising | 36 |