Elizabeth

my multiple Mes on the sly, where Furphy he isn’t by, old grum he’s not absintheminded, with his sad slow munch for backonham. Yet never shet it the truath I’m tallin yei*) to have and to distinguish is a farfer and morefar and a trifling selves, amadst camel and ass, greybeard and suckling, priest and king to the level of the bringfast cable but here till youre martimorphysed please sit still face to face down- wards for modest Sister Anne Mortimer; altar falls for Blanchisse’s bed; Wildairs’ breechettes for Magpeg Woppington; to Sue Dot a big tody ram lad