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petites femmes. Bold bad girl from the town of Mullingar.
Tell her I was axing at her. Hauding Sara by the wame. On
the road to Malahide. Me? If she who seduced me had left
but the name. What do you want for ninepence? Machree,
macruiskeen. Smutty Moll for a mattress jig. And a pull all
together. Ex!
Waiting, guvnor? Most deciduously. Bet your boots on.
Stunned like, seeing as how no shiners is acoming. Under-
constumble? He’ve got the chink ad lib. Seed near free poun
on un a spell ago a said war hisn. Us come right in on your
invite, see? Up to you, matey. Out with the oof. Two bar
and a wing. You larn that go off of they there Frenchy bilks?
Won’t wash here for nuts nohow. Lil chile velly solly. Ise de
cutest colour coon down our side. Gawds teruth, Chawley.
We are nae fou. We’re nae tha fou. Au reservoir, mossoo.
Tanks you.
‘Tis, sure. What say? In the speakeasy. Tight. I shee you,
shir. Bantam, two days teetee. Bowsing nowt but clare-
twine. Garn! Have a glint, do. Gum, I’m jiggered. And been
to barber he have. Too full for words. With a railway bloke.
How come you so? Opera he’d like? Rose of Castile. Rows of
cast. Police! Some H2O for a gent fainted. Look at Bantam’s
flowers. Gemini. He’s going to holler. The colleen bawn.
My colleen bawn. O, cheese it! Shut his blurry Dutch oven
with a firm hand. Had the winner today till I tipped him a
dead cert. The ruffin cly the nab of Stephen Hand as give
me the jady coppaleen. He strike a telegramboy paddock
wire big bug Bass to the depot. Shove him a joey and gra-
hamise. Mare on form hot order. Guinea to a goosegog. Tell