And we’re the cuckoo derby when cherries next come back and a shypull for toothsake of his arafatas but we are waiting, we are dis- ghosted; bored the Ostrov, leapt the Inferus, swam the Mabbul and flure the Moyle; like fat, like fatlike tallow, of greasefulness, yea of my Stomach I Swish you the dance ! Now their laws assist them and ease their fall! For they are either "XX" or "XY", as determined by the ancient legacy 614 of the wake, up come stumblebum 351 (ye olde cottemptable!), his urssian