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If you think its publication will subswerve the cause of litteraoor, you may publicate it. I told my wife Betsy when I left home that I should go to the birthplace of the orthur of "Otheller" and other Plays. She said that as long as I kept out of Newgate she didn't care where I went. "But," I said, "don't you know he was the greatest Poit that ever lived?
Not one of these common poits, like that young idyit who writes verses to our daughter, about the Roses as growses, and the Breezes as blowses but a Boss Poit also a philosopher, also a man who knew a great deal about everything." She was packing my things at the time, and the only answer she made was to ask me if I was goin to carry both of my red flannel night-caps. Yes.
But, peradventure, if the covenant had been made with the lord of the manor, who had inheritance in the manor, ou issint come determination poit estre fait, it would be otherwise," which was admitted. /1/ It was assumed that the covenant was not so made as to attach to the manor, and the court, observing that the service was rather spiritual than temporal, were inclined to think that the heir could sue. /2/ The defendant accordingly over and set up a release.
Fr egzarmpl, a riter ov th time, naimed Max Beerbohm, hoo woz stil alive in th twentith senchri, rote a stauri in wich e pautraid an immajnari karrakter kauld "Enoch Soames" a thurd-rait poit hoo beleevz imself a grate jeneus an maix a bargin with th Devvl in auder ter no wot posterriti thinx ov im!
Feller Sitterzens, I am dun. Accordinly I squatted. Mr. I take my Pen in hand to inform yu that I'm in good helth and trust these few lines will find yu injoyin the same blessins. I wood also state that I'm now on the summir kampane. As the Poit sez ime erflote, ime erflote On the Swift rollin tied An the Rovir is free.
From p. 234 of 'Inglish Littracher 1890-1900' bi T. K. Nupton, publishd bi th Stait, 1992: 'Fr egzarmpl, a riter ov th time, naimd Max Beerbohm, hoo woz stil alive in th twentieth senchri, rote a stauri in wich e pautraid an immajnari karrakter kauld "Enoch Soames" a thurd-rait poit hoo beleevz imself a grate jeneus an maix a bargin with th Devvl in auder ter no wot posterriti thinx ov im!
I see that beautiful boosum pin a parsin from one Slosher to another, and I'm reminded of them sad words of the poit, "parsin away! parsin away!" I never saw it no more. Then in comes a athletic female, who no sooner sees me than she utters a wild yell, and cries: "At larst! at larst! My Wilyim, from the seas!" I said, "not at all, Marm. Not on no account.
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