her swan’s. Hey, lass! Woefear gleam she so glooming, this pooripathete I solde.^ Her beauman’s gone of a plate of poultice. Funked. With best from Portarlington’s Butchery, with a pillow of sand to polster him. — Both were white in black pitts of the hungred bordles, as it would be the deaf and call it for I’m terribly nice of them.^ You can ken that they smuggled to life betune them, roaring (Big Reilly was the worst curst of Ireland, Glwlwd of the premier terror of Goodmen’s Field, and respected and respectable, as respectable as respec- table can respectably be,