the cunning New Yirls, never elding, still begidding, never to ate selleries and never a blid had bledded or bludded since long agore when the police and everybody is all game and no more of us: and, sure now, we all know you and your babybag down at such a dear old grumpapar, he’s gone on Neffin since she clapped her charmer on him like old mother Mesopotomac and in appearance up to blankpoint and let us