Tales Told

transition proofs, April 1929, §1C draft level 2

MS missing Draft details

The Gracehoper was always jigging a jog, hoppy on akkant of his joyicity (he had a partner pair of findlestilts to supplant him), or, if not, he was always making ungraceful overtures to Floh and Luse and Bienie and Vespatilla to play pupa-pupa and pulicy-pulicy and to commence insects with him, even if only in chaste, ameng the everlastings, behold a watering pot. He would of curse melissciously by his fore antennas, lamely, harry me, marry me, bury me, bind me, till she was puce for shame and allso fourmish her in Spinner's housery at the earthsbest schoppinhour so summery as his cottage, which was cald fourmilierly Tingsomingenting, groped up. Or, if he was not done doing that, he was always stricking up funny funereels with Besterfather zeuts inscythe his wormcasket, attended to by a mutter and deffer baxing motch and a myrmidins of pszozlers — anyting above ground so as anywhy to kick time. Grouscious me! What a bagateller it is! Pou! What a Zeit for the goths! vented the Ondt, who, not being a sommerfool, was making chilly spaces at hisphex affront of the icinglass of his windhame, which was cold antitopically Nixnixundnix. We shall
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not come to that lopp's party, he decided, for he is not on our social list. The Ondt was a weltall fellow, raumybult and abelboobied, bynear saw altitudinous wee a schelling in kopfers. He was sair sair sullemn and chairmanlooking when he was not making spaces in his psyche, but (laus!) when he wore making spaces on his ikey he ware mouche moore secred and wisechairmanlooking. Now whim the sillybilly of a Gracehoper had jingled through a jungle of love and debts and jangled through a jumble of life in doubts afterworse, wetting with the waps, drikking with the drones, bilking with bugs and horing after hornests, he fell joust as sieck as a sexton and tanto pooveroo as a churchprince, and wheer the midges to wend hemsylph, alick, he wist nit! Iomio! Iomio! Crick, which a plight! He had eaten all the whilepaper, swallowed the lustres, devoured forty flights of styearcases, chewed up all the mensas and seccles, ronged the records, made mouthballs of the ephemerids and voracioused with the very timeplace in the ternitary — not too dusty a cicada for a little chip so mity. But when Chrysalmas was on the bare branches off he went from Tingsomingenting. He took a round stroll and he took a stroll round and he took a round strollagain till the grillies in his head and the leivnits in his hair made him thought he had the Tossmania. The June snow was flocking in thuckflues on the hegelstomes and a lugly tournedos, the Boraborayellers, blasting tilehuts up to tetties and the sleets off the coppeehouses. The Gracehoper, who knew his entymology, promptly tossed himself in the vico, phthin and phthir, on top of his buzzer and the next time he
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makes the aquinatance of the Ondt he will beheld a world of differents. Behailed the Ondt with unshrinkables draping from his unthinkables, swarming of himself in his sunnyroom, sated before his comfortumble phullupsuppy of a plate o' monkynous and a confucion of minthe (for he was a conformed aristotaller) as appi as a oneysucker or a baskerboy on the Libido with Floh biting his big thigh and Luse lugging his left leg and Bienie bussing him under his bonnet and Vespatilla blowing cosy fond tutties up the large of his smalls. Emmet and demmet and be jiltses crazed and be jadeses whipt! schneezed the Gracehoper at his wittol's end, What have eyeforsight. The Ondt was making the greatest spass a body could for he was spizzing all over him in formicolation, boundlessly blissfilled in an allallahbath of houris. He was ameising himself hugely, chasing Floh out of charity and tickling Luse, I hope too, and tackling Bienie, faith as well, and catching Vespatilla by the end. Never did Dorcan from Dunshangan dance it with more devilry! The veripatetic figure of the Gracehoper on his odderkop in the myre, actually and presumptuably sinctifying chronic's despair, was sufficiently too much for his chorous
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of gravitates.

He larved and he larved and he merd such a naus
That the Gracehoper feared he would misplace his jaws
I forgive you, dear Ondt, said the Gracehoper, weeping,
For their sakes of the sakes you are safe in whose keeping.
Teach Floh and Luse polkas, show Bienie what's sweet
And be sure Vespatilla fines fat ones to heat.
As I once played the piper I must now pay the count
So saida to Moyhammlet and marhaba to your Mount!
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I pick up your reproof as the gift of a friend,
For the prize of your save is the price of my spend.
We are Wastenot with Want, precondamned, two and true,
Till Nolans go volants and Bruneyes come blue.
In my risible universe where could you find
Such prodigious advancement with so much behind?
Your feats are enormous, your volumes immense
(May the Graces I hoped for sing Your Ondtship song sense!),
Your genus is worldwide, your spaces sublime!
But, Holy Saltmartin, why can't you beat time?

In the name of the former and of the latter and of their holocaust. Allmen.