Why la; I knew't, this Propheticall tongue of mine never faild me; my mother was halfe a witch, never any thing that ſhe foreſpake, but came to paſſe: […]
‘Terry stop it! R—′s on, remember. If we get busted we′re ratshit. We′ll never see each other again.’
He acrobated into a shirt, pulled up the pants of his good suit, arching to draw them high […]
I spent a werry plessant arternoon there, and drove home in style on the Box Seat of a reel Company's Bus. The nex day I went to Higate Wood, another of the grate works of the good old Copperashun.
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