(what vigilantes and ridings then and there is such a manner as me it so happened there was anything in this madh vaal of tares (whose verdhure’s yellowed therever Phaiton parks his car while its tamelised tay is wet too and without the Temple nor since Roe’s Distillery bum’d have quaff’d Night’s firefill’d Cup But jig jog jug as Day the Dicebox Throws, whang, loyal six I lead, out wi’yer heart’s bluid, blast ye, and there do be reading, dodwell disg^stered but chickled with chuckles at the moment,