The Moose and the Grapes

A moose he would a walking go so he ^|adrubbed his eyes, ascented his nose, packed up his ears^a| put on his impermeable and stepped out of his immobile and set off to see how badness was badness in the ^|awest of all possible waste of all parsable^a| words. He had not made but a few parsecs when at the dirty of a wrong lane ^|ahe met the Grapes he came upon a ^|blittle river stream^b|a|. ^|aIt was little and it was brown and it was narrow and it was shallow. And as it ran it dribbled ^|blike any lively purl-it easy^b|. My, my my! Me me me! Little brown dream don't I love me? ^|bAnd, I declare! Who was there on the yonder side of the stream, parched on ^|cthe a^c| limb of the olum but the Grapes.^{b|a| |a}The Grapes no doubt he^a| was fit to be dried for why had he not been having the juice of his time? His pips had been nearly all drowned on him, his polps were charging odours every older minute, he was ^|aquickly^a| for getting the dresser's designs ^|ainto the flypape on the flypage^a| of his frons and he was quietly ^|aforgiving for giving^a| the bailiff's distrain on to the balkside of his
{ms, 217v}
cul de pompe. In all his specious heavings, as he lived by Optimus Maximus, the moose had never seen ^|ablank scapegrapes^a| his brooder so near a pickle. “Woe, He stood before the Grapes ^|aand looked up aurignacian in his outfit in an outfit ^|ball^b| of Aurignacian^a|. “Fie, sour!” said he to the scapegrapes “Have you not a shambleful Our Father blank
{ms, 218v}

He ^|asaw sor^a| a stone and on that stone he sate his seat ^|alike ^|bwhere which^b| it filled ^|bto^b| the ^|bfull fullest^b| justotoryum^a| and ^|a|bwhereon whereupon^b|a| with his unfallable upon his in alloilable and ^|athe pederect he walked with blank^a| his fresherman's trop blague ^|aBellua Triumphans^a| he ^|awas the looked the last^a| laical likenesses of ^|aof Quartus V Quintus the Sixth ^|b|ctaking giving^c| allnight sittings to^b|a| Leo of the Faultyfinth.

— ^|aGood appetite^a| How do you do it, ^|aMr the sir^a| Mookse? cheeped the Gripes ^|a|bin a wherry whoggy woice^b| and the jackasses laughed at his voice for they knew their sly toad lowry well^a| I am blessed to see you, my dear mister. Will you not ^|aperhaps perhopes^a| tell me everything, if you are pleased, ^|asir sanity^a|?

— ^|aBlast yourself, Rats!^a| roared the Mookse and the mice quailed to hear him at all for you cannot ^|amake wake^a| a silken noise out of a hoarse oar. ^|aBlast yourself!^a| No, hang you! I am superbly in my ^|ahealth supreme poncif^a|. Rot!

— I am till infinity obliged with you, said the Gripes. I am ^|astill always^a| having a ^|awatch wish^a| on all my extremities. By the watch, what is the time?, pace?

— ^|aAsk my index!^a| Quote awhore! replied the Mookse ^|ain highest of humour ^|brapidly becoming clement urban & celestinal^b|a|. It is ^|ajust quite^a| about what I came for. Let there be
{ms, 219}
orlog. Let here be Irene. Let you be Beeton. And let me be Los Angelos. Well, sour, do you give ^|ait you^a| up?

— I ^|awill can^a| never give you up, replied the Gripes with ^|athe his^a| nethermost ^|adespair wanhope^a|. My temple is my own. But I ^|ahear I^a| can ^|anever rarely^a| tell you how whose a'cloak you are.

— My building space is always to let to men, replied concluded the Mookse. My side is ^|aas^a| safe as houses^|a. and^a| I see what it is to be seen. ^|aParis ^|bParyses Parysis^b|a| belongs to ^|ahe who praises him who parises^a| himself. I can prove it against you^|a, my good enemy^a|. I bet you a this dozen of tomes.
{ms, 220}

He proved it by Neuclid, by Inexagoras, by Mummsen, by ^|aThumpsun Thumpson^a|, by Orasmus, and by O. Hone and after that he reproved it altogether by after the binomial the dioram and the penic law walls and inklespill legends and the rune of the hoop and the the ^|alesson lessons^a| of expedience and the ^|ajudicats judycats^a| of Puncher's Pylax.

There was a little c Cloud in her lightdress looking down on them, listening all she could. She was alone. All her nuby compinions were ^|asleeping asleeping^a| like the squirrels. Their ^|amother mivver^a|, Mrs Moonan, was away scrubbing the back steps at no 28. And as for the fur fuvver he was round up in Norwood's sokaparlor eating oceans of ice. She listened as she ^|alistened reflected herself^a| and she tried all she tried to make the
{ms, 221}
Mooks look up at her (but he was far too farseeing) and to make the Gripes hear how how quiet she was (^|abut though^a| he was not much too auricular about himself) but it was all ^|achild's ^|bcloud's child's^b|a| labour lost. ^|a|bNot even her reflection would they take their ^|cnotice of noses off^c|.^b| She tried all the ^|bwily^b| ways the four winds had taught her^a| She tossed her hair like the little princess de Bretagne and she rounded her arms like Mrs Cornwallis West and she smiled over herself like the ^|aimage of the^a| daughter of the queen of the emperor of Ireland and she sighed after herself like the bride of Tristis Tristissimus. But she might just as well have carried a daisy's grace to Florida. For the Mooks was not amooksed and the Gripes was painfully ^|aoblivious obliviscent^a|. ^|aYou see, ^|bmy dears,^b| they were menner.^a|
{ms, 222}

Night Dusk to dusk, the shades gathered along the brightening l river banks and it was as gloomy as gloaming could be in the west of all peacable wolds. The Moose had eyes ^|abut he could not yet he would not all^a| hear. The Grapes had ears ^|abut he would yet he could^a| but ill see. And he ceased. And he ceased. And it was ever so ^|adark of both of them dusky of them both^a|. ^|aBut one thought of all how ^|bmoose mooch^b| he would say the next to on the morrow and the other of all the scrapes he would be creeped out of^a|. ^|aSo that the tears of night began to fall for the tired ones were weeping ^|b|c& as^c| we weep, now, with them^b|.^a| Then there came down to the one bank a a woman of no appearance ^|a(I ^|bthink believe^b| she was a Black)^a| and she gathered up moose where he was spread and ^|abore carried^a| him away to her invisible cottage for he was the holy sacred spit of a ^|abishop's bushop's^a| apron. And there came down to the other bank another woman blank (still we are told that she is comely) and, for he
{ms, 223v}
was as like it as blow it to a halpenny hank, she plucked ^|aaway down^a| the grapes and carried ^|a|bit him^b|a| away with her to her little grey home unseen shieling. And it was never so thoughtful of either of them. And there were left by their banks an only elmtree and but ^|aa one^a| stone. ^|aThen ^|athe little a small^a| cloud made her up ^|ball^b| her ^|blittle^b| minds. ^|bShe reflected for the last time in her short life.^b| She climbed over the banisters and awd, poof! She was gone. And there fell into the river the last tear & the loveliest, ^|bfor it was a^b| a leap tear. ^|x28 = 1 + (2 + 3 + 4 + 5) + 6 + 7 / 14^{x|a| |a}And But^a| the river ^|aslipped between them tripped on her by and by^a|, lapping as if her heart was ^|abroke brook^a|. Why, why, why? ^|aO weh, O weh, I am sorry Weh, O weh, I's so silly^a| to be flowing but I ^|amust not no canna^a| stay!