| by Waterhose's Meddle Europeic Time, near Stop and Think, | 1 |
| high chief evervirens and only abfalltree in auld the land) there | 2 |
| was not as much light from the widowed moon as would dim a | 3 |
| child's altar. The mixer, accordingly, was bluntly broached, and | 4 |
| in the best basel to boot, as to whether he was one of those | 5 |
| lucky cocks for whom the audible-visible-gnosible-edible world | 6 |
| existed. That he was only too cognitively conatively cogitabun- | 7 |
| dantly sure of it because, living, loving, breathing and sleeping | 8 |
| morphomelosophopancreates, as he most significantly did, when- | 9 |
| ever he thought he heard he saw he felt he made a bell clipper- | 10 |
| clipperclipperclipper. Whether he was practically sure too of his | 11 |
| lugs and truies names in this king and blouseman business? That | 12 |
| he was pediculously so. Certified? As cad could be. Be lying! Be | 13 |
| the lonee I will. It was Morbus O' Somebody? A'Quite. Szer- | 14 |
| day's Son? A satyr in weddens. And how did the greeneyed | 15 |
| mister arrive at the B.A.? That it was like his poll. A cross- | 16 |
| grained trapper with murty odd oogs, awflorated ares, inquiline | 17 |
| nase and a twithcherous mouph? He would be. Who could bit | 18 |
| you att to a tenyerdfuul when aastalled? Ballera jobbera. Some | 19 |
| majar bore too? Iguines. And with tumblerous legs, redipnomi- | 20 |
| nated Helmingham Erchenwyne Rutter Egbert Crumwall Odin | 21 |
| Maximus Esme Saxon Esa Vercingetorix Ethelwulf Rupprecht | 22 |
| Ydwalla Bentley Osmund Dysart Yggdrasselmann? Holy Saint | 23 |
| Eiffel, the very phoenix! It was Chudley Magnall once more | 24 |
| between the deffodates and the dumb scene? The two childspies | 25 |
| waapreesing him auza de Vologue but the renting of his rock | 26 |
| was from the three wicked Vuncouverers Forests bent down | 27 |
| awhits, arthou sure? Yubeti, Cumbilum comes! One of the ox- | 28 |
| men's thingabossers, hvad? And had he been refresqued by the | 29 |
founts of bounty playing there is a pain aleland in | 30 |
| Long's gourgling barral? A loss of Lordedward and a lack of sir- | 31 |
| philip a surgeonet showeradown could suck more gargling | 32 |
| bubbles out of the five lamps in Portterand's praise. Wirrgeling | 33 |
| and maries? As whose wouldn't, laving his leaftime in Black- | 34 |
| pool. But, of course, he could call himself Tem, too, if he had | 35 |
| time to? You butt he could anytom. When he pleased? Win and | 36 |