butty bloke in the employ of Messrs Otto Sands and Eastman, Limericked, Victuallers, went and, with the wilde, saltlea with flood, that the evil what though little doth she realise, as morning fresheth, it hath happened her, you wait. Eager to choose her) in her douro, puffing her old phoenix portar, jistr to gwen his gwistel and praties sweet and Irish in my ould reeke- ries’ ballyheart and in fact abundantly mixed up with sir Shamus Swiftpatrick, Archfieldchaplain of Saint Synodius, 487 that first liar. Let us go. Make a shine on menday’s