BOOK: | I | II | III | IV |
|492 | 493 |494 |

took a brief one in his shirtsails out of the alleged given mineral,1
telling me see his in Foraignghistan sambat papers Sunday feac-2
tures of a welcomed aperrytiff with vallad of Erill Pearcey O3
he never battered one eagle's before paying me his duty on my4
annaversary to the parroteyes list in my nil ensemble, in his lazy-5
chair but he hidded up my hemifaces in all my mayarannies and6
he locked plum into my mirrymouth like Ysamasy morning in7
the end of time, with the so light's hope on his ruddycheeks and8
rawjaws and, my charmer, whom I dipped my hand in, he simply9
showed me his propendiculous loadpoker, Seaserpents hisses10
sissastones, which was as then is produced in his mansway by11
this wisest of the Vikramadityationists, with the remere remind12
remure remark, in his gulughurutty: Yran for parasites with rum13
for the turkeycockeys so Lithia, M.D., as this is for Snooker,14
          Which was said by whem to whom? 16
          It wham. But whim I can't whumember. 17
          Fantasy! funtasy on fantasy, amnaes fintasies! And there is 18
nihil nuder under the clothing moon. When Ota, weewahrwificle19
of Torquells, bumpsed her dumpsydiddle down in her woolsark20
she mode our heuteyleutey girlery of peerlesses to set up in all21
their bombossities of feudal fiertey, fanned, flounced and frangi-22
panned, while the massstab whereby Ephialtes has exceeded is the23
measure, simplex mendaciis, by which our Outis cuts his thruth.24
Arkaway now!25
          Yerds and nudes say ayes and noes! Vide! Vide! 26
          Let Eivin bemember for Gates of Gold for their fadeless 27
suns berayed her. Irise, Osirises! Be thy mouth given unto thee!28
For why do you lack a link of luck to poise a pont of perfect,29
peace? On the vignetto is a ragingoos. The overseer of the house30
of the oversire of the seas, Nu-Men, triumphant, sayeth: Fly as31
the hawk, cry as the corncrake, Ani Latch of the postern is thy32
name; shout!33
          My heart, my mother! My heart, my coming forth of 34
darkness! They know not my heart, O coolun dearast! Mon35
gloomerie! Mon glamourie! What a surpraise, dear Mr Preacher,36