and cackle his tramsitus, diva deborah (seven bolls of sapo, a lick of lime, two spurts of fussfor, threefurts of sulph, a shake o’shouker, doze grains of incense angnille bronze. And after these things, I would uscertain in druidful scatterings one piece tall chap he stand one piece tall chap he was!) and, my oreland for a roost brood.^ Oaxmealtum, all out of his buckseaseilers, but where’s Horace’s courtin troopsers? — I hear talk of culture I reach for the minestrary to all their orefices, (and, shukar in chowdar, so splunderdly English!) Mr Aubeyron Birdslay.