| there being no macadamised sidetracks on those old nekropolitan | 1 |
| nights in, barring a footbatter, Bryant's Causeway, bordered | 2 |
| with speedwell, white clover and sorrel a wood knows, which | 3 |
| left off, being beaten, where the plaintiff was struck, she | 4 |
| left down, as scavengers, who will be scavengers must, her | 5 |
| filthdump near the Serpentine in Phornix Park (at her time called | 6 |
| Finewell's Keepsacre but later tautaubapptossed Pat's Purge), | 7 |
| that dangerfield circling butcherswood where fireworker oh | 8 |
| flaherty engaged a nutter of castlemallards and ah for archer | 9 |
| stunned's turk, all over which fossil footprints, bootmarks, | 10 |
| fingersigns, elbowdints, breechbowls, a. s. o. were all succes- | 11 |
| sively traced of a most envolving description. What subtler | 12 |
| timeplace of the weald than such wolfsbelly castrament to will | 13 |
| hide a leabhar from Thursmen's brandihands or a loveletter, | 14 |
| lostfully hers, that would be lust on Ma, than then when ructions | 15 |
| ended, than here where race began: and by four hands of fore- | 16 |
| thought the first babe of reconcilement is laid in its last cradle | 17 |
| of hume sweet hume. Give over it! And no more of it! So pass | 18 |
| the pick for child sake! O men! | 19 |
|     For hear Allhighest sprack for krischnians as for propagana | 20 |
| fidies and his nuptial eagles sharped their beaks of prey: and | 21 |
| every morphyl man of us, pome by pome, falls back into this | 22 |
| terrine: as it was let it be, says he! And it is as though where | 23 |
| Agni araflammed and Mithra monished and Shiva slew as maya- | 24 |
| mutras the obluvial waters of our noarchic memory withdrew, | 25 |
| windingly goharksome, to some hastyswasty timberman torch- | 26 |
| priest, flamenfan, the ward of the wind that lightened the fire that | 27 |
| lay in the wood that Jove bolt, at his rude word. Posidonius | 28 |
| O'Fluctuary! Lave that bloody stone as it is! What are you | 29 |
| doing your dirty minx and his big treeblock way up your path? | 30 |
| Slip around, you, by the rare of the ministers'! And, you, take | 31 |
| that barrel back where you got it, Mac Shane's, and go the way | 32 |
| your old one went, Hatchettsbury Road! And gish! how they | 33 |
| gushed away, the pennyfares, a whole school for scamper, with | 34 |
| their sashes flying sish behind them, all the little pirlypettes! | 35 |
| Issy-la-Chapelle! Any lucans, please? | 36 |