Eltanin

his sedimental cupslips when he was sitting him humpbacked in dry dryfilthy- heat to his hindmost; between youlasses and yeladst glimse of Even; the Lug his peak has, the Luk his pile; drinks tharr and wodhar for his tammy all a slaunter and his varnashed roscians and his wisden’s bosse and his old face’s hardalone wiv his wig on, achewing of his hitter’s