The Mime

3rd typescript, September 1932, II.1§4 draft level 5

MS missing Draft details

But low, boys, low he rises, shrivering, with his spittyful eyes and his (5wheezebecome whoozebecome5) woice. (5Ephthah. Ephthah! Cisamis!5) Examen of conscience scruples now he to the best of his memory do. He dooly redecant allbigenesis' henesies. He proform penance. He make polentay rossum out of bianconies hiking ahake like any nudgemenoughgorude all over Terracuta. No more throw acids, face all lovabilities. He make clean breast of goody girl now as ever drank (5milk milksoup5) from a (5soup spoon spoon5), (5whitehearted weedhearted5) boy of potter and mudder(5, |shchip offº old flintsh|, twig of the hider that tanned him5). He relation belong this remarkable moliman, Anaks Andrum, pure blood Jebusite. Intrance on back. Most open on the laydays. He possible, (5|shsoothº to say,ºsh|5) notwithstanding he gaining fish considerable, to look most prophitable out of smily skibluh eyes. (5He repeat of |shhim as pious aliossh| |shcos he ast for shave and haircut people said he'd shape of hegoatº where he just was sheep of herrgot with his tile togged|5) Not true his portmanteau fulled potatowards.
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Big dumm crumm digaditchies say he coaxyorum offering barley zuckers on Spinisters' Walk in presents to maidinettes (5|shfor at bloo his nooseº for himsh| |shwith pruriest pollygameous inattentions, |shhe having that pecuniaritysh| because souffrant from a |shplentitudesh| of house tortssh|5). (5|shColossulº rhodomantic lie Scholarinaº say when he walk in her sleepº his pig indicks weg more als femtifemº| |shHow cooldº one classically? One could naught cliticallyº.sh| |shIninest lightingshaft only for lovalit smugpipe, his Mistress Mereshame, of cupric tresses, the formwhite foaminine, the ambersandalled.ºsh| |shAº mishº he is as good as a mountain,sh| and everybody he knowº Meisther |shWickingsonºsh|, |shwith complexion of blushing dolomite fanned by ozeonº brisees,sh| have his |shignomensh| of being |shMaster Milchkush|, |shqueerest man in the benighted queendom,sh| and |shhow he found the|5) Other accuse about him as lochkneeghed forsunkener, all a meltingmoult after rhomatism, purely (5simple simply5) tommy ratkins. (5|shThey whiteliveried ragsups, twoº whales of the Sea of Dezeit,sh| |shthey bloodiblabstard shooters,º three Dromedaries of the Sandsº of|5) In his contrary this Heer Assassor Neelsoen laxtleap great change of retiring family buckler, highly accurrect in his everythinks, (5|shfrom tencents top to bargain basement,sh|5) live with howthhold of number seven in black velvet sidden mangy yaars and got a babyboy bucktooth coming on ever so nursely at 81. That why all parks up excited about his gunnfodder. That why he, (5upright person upricht person5), glycorawman, arsenicful feminister, with two purses, agitating his theopot with wokkleabout shake, rather uncoherend, from one 18 to one 18 bis. Old grand tut tut toucher up of young poetographies and he turn aroundabrupt red altfrumpishly falls some make one noise. It's his last lap Gigantic, fare him weal! A fact. True bill. By a jury of matrons. Hump for humbleness, dump for dirts. And to make a long stoney short (5in a mennhir of speaking5) his Thing went the wholyway rutup Suffrogate (5Street |shStratesh|5).

Helpmeat too, contrasta toga, his fiery goosemother, woman who did, he tell princes of the age about. Who not knows she, the Madame Coolley-Couley, spawife to laird of manna, when first
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come into the pictures more as hundreads elefents yahrds of annams callaway, factory fresh and forming at the mouth, wronged by Hwemwednoget (he take a rap for that early party) and whenceforward, Ani Mama and her forty bustles, terrified of mountains and furibound to be back in her maidenbed? But would ondulate her shookerloft hat like any purple cardinal's princess to the papal's legate from the Vactucum, Monsaigneur Rabbinsohn Crucis, on account of all he quaqueduxed and the nations abhord him and wop mezzo scudo to Sant Pursy Orelli to be offered up missas for vowts for widders.
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Hear, O worldwithout! Tiny tattling!

But who comes yond with pire on poletop? He who relights our spearing torch, the moon. And the hag they damename Coverfew hists from her lane. And haste, 'tis time for bairns to hame. Chickchilds, comeho to roo. Comehome to roo, wee chickchilds doo, when the wildwerewolf's abroad. Ah, let's away and let's gay and let's stay chez where the log foyer's burning!