1st typescript, November 1938, IV§5 draft level 1

MS British Library 47488 134-137 Draft details

Soft morning, city! I am Leafy speafing. Lifp! Folty and folty all the nights have being falling on to long my hair. Not a sound, falling. |1No wind,º no word. Only a leaf, just a leaf and then leaves.1| The woods are so fond always. It is for my |1golden goolden1| wending. Rise up, man of the hooths, you have slept so long! I am Leafy, your |1golden goolden1|, so you called me, |1my life, you're goolden, silve me solve,1| |1exaggerator exsogerraider1|! Here is your shirt, the day one, come back. The stock, your collar. Also your double brogues. |1And stand up tall.º1| I want to see you looking fine for me. You make me think of a seaman I once. Or an earl was he, at Lucan? Or, no, it's the Iren duke's I mean. |1Or sombreyº erse from Darklands.1| Come and let us. The childer are still fast. There is no school today. Them boys is so contrairy. Heel trouble and heal travel. |1Unless they changes by mistakes mistake. I seen the likes in the twinngling of an aye. |aSo oft. Time after time. The sehm asnuh.ºa|1| And her, you wait. |1Eager to choose is left for her shade.º1| But let them. |1We've light enough.1| Slops and the slut too. It's Phoenix, dear. |1|saAnd the flame is, hear! Let's our journeey saintomichael make it. Since blank has lost and the blank of the debt is.| Come!º |aWe have We'vea| light enough.1| It is the softest morning that |1ever1| I can ever remember me. The trout will be so nice at |1brookfest brookfishtº1|. With a cut of roly polony after. To bring out the tang of |1the1| tay. Are my not truly? |1Lst!1| Only you must buy me a |1fine1| new girdle too. Come. Give me your great big hand for miny tiny. We will take our walk before they ring the bells. |1Pax Goodmass. Or the birds start their treestorm shindy. |aLook, there are yours off, high on high! And,º
{f39, 622}
O, |bit's sweetb| good luck they're cawing you, Coole! You see, they're as white as the riven snae.
a|1| Not such big steps. It is hardly |1seven mile a mile or seven1|. It is very good for health in the morning. It seems so long since. As if you had been long far away. You will tell me some time if I can believe its all. You know where I am bringing you? You remember? Not a soul but ourselves. We might call on the Old Lord, what do you say? He is a |1fine good1| sport. His door always open. Remember to take off your white hat, |1eh ech1|? |1And say hoothoodoo?. |aYou'll know our way from there,º surely?º Flura's way. Where once we led so many car couples have follied since. Giving Shaughnessy's mare the hillymoont of her life. With her strulldeburgghers! Hnmn hnmn! The rollcky road adondering.a|1| We can sit us down on the heathery benn, me on you. To scand the arising. Ourselves|1, oursoulsº1| alone at the site of salvocean. And watch would the letter you're wanting be coming may be. That I |1pays praysº1| for with me dreams. Scratching it and patching at with a prompt |s1of froms1| a primer. Based on traumscrapt from Maston, Boss. After rounding his
{f39, 624}
world of ancient days. Carried in a caddy or screwed and corked. On his mugisstosst surface. With a bob, bob, bottledy bob. |1Blob.1| You must build our villa there and we'll cohabit respectable. |1The Gowans, ser, for Medem, me. |saWith acute runtoher for to pippup where the sterres be. Tiltopº, bigmaster!sa|1| You're not so giddy now any more. Only don't start your games of last night again. |s1I could guessp to her name who tucked tuckt you that one, tufnut!º Bold bet backwords.s1| For the loves of the sins! Before the naked sky. |1Softly so.1| I am so exquisitely pleased about the lovely dress I have. You will always call me Leafy, won't you? |1And |ayou'll love you won't urbjunk toa| my parafume, oiled of Kolloo Kolloonely. |aSm!a| It's Allpineº Smile from Yestherº and Yesther's Yesthers. I'm in everywince nasturtls. Astale of astoun.1| Queer grand old |1Finn, if marauder! Ifº1| I knew who you are! I will tell you all sorts of stories, strange one. About every simple place we pass. It is all so often and still the same to me. If I lose my breath for a minute or two don't speak, remember. It's thinking of all. I'll begin again in a jiffey. Look! Your blackbirds! That's for your good luck. How glad you'll be I waked you! My! How well you'll feel! For ever after. First we turn a little here and then it's easy. I only hope whole the heavens sees
{f39, 626}
us. For I feel I could faint. Here weir, reach, island, bridge. There! That's what cockles the hearty! |1Let me lean, so soft our morning. So.1| A bit beside the bush and then a walk along the