Then act all trash and gag!
For thee the nonsense of my utter brims;
To thee my platefull simmering ever trims
With flies that now can't bag!
"I think you will grant that the printers made a slight mull of my writing?" said Mr. Jones, when Chichester had brought this specimen of typography to a conclusion.
"Yes—a slight mull, as you observe," returned this gentleman, who, together with his own friends, was scarcely able to repress a boisterous outbreak of mirth. "But it is impossible to feel any annoyance at that strange assemblage of misconceptions on the part of the printer, since the original itself is so perfectly beautiful."
"Oh! yes—so very charming!" whispered Clarissa Jemima to her lover.
Mr. Jones looked a complete encyclopædia of tender emotions; and the happy couple, forgetting that other persons were present, continued their discourse in whispers.
"Well, I declare," said Miss Susannah Rachel, after a pause, "I don't think I shall ever again be able to sleep without a light in the room, after all that has been told us about the ghost."
"And I shall always cover my head over with the clothes," lisped another female specimen of the Bustard race.