Tiss! Two |alittle mistletoes pretty mistletotsa|, ribboned to a tree, up stood liberator and, fancy, they were free. Four witty missywives, winking under hoods, made lasses
& lads like maypoleriding & dotted the green with tricksome couples, fifty fifty, their |achildren's childern'sa| hundred. The childish pence
took care of their |aparent parentsa| pounds and money made money the usual way of the world and |aroads rushroadsa| to riches crossed slums of |athe poor licea| & he put forged himself |aa head aheada| like a blazing urbanorb, brewing trouble to drown grief, giving & taking mayo and tuam, playing milliards with his three golden balls, making his capital |a|bgrow outb|a| of |alandeda| selfinterest, light on |athe aa| slavey |a& buta| weighty on the bourse, with his sons our huge commercial emporial, with his sons booing him from afar and his daughters bridling up |aby ata| his side.