You musht know that I om (do you take me? see!) an owld rubble that has found marsee and purteckshin from ago-burn-mint, that mite very justly have scent me and awl my comerogues, sowl and boddy, piking off to the divle (Christ bless us!) and the two looking eyes in my foolish head is so opent, by this and other matthers, to see owld times and time to cum, fwhen I should be afther being dead of the himpen or leaden disorder, that I think I can give the peephill that reeds the Water-fart Chronickhill, sum hints worth shmoaking; and af yew don't prent them, fwhy-Na bocklesh! That's all! Put that in your pipe and shmoak it!