When, as the buzzer brings the light brigade, keeping the home fires burning, so on the churring call themselves came at him, from the westborders of the eastmidlands, three kings of three suits and a crowner, from all their … [Leer más...]

Yawn in a semiswoon lay awailing and (hooh!) what helpings of honeyful swoothead (phew!), which ear- piercing dulcitude! As were you suppose to go and push with your bluntblank pin in hand upinto his fleshasplush cushionettes of some … [Leer más...]

Most distressfully (but, my dear, how successfully!) to wail he did, his locks of a lucan tinge, quickrich, ripely rippling, unfilleted, those lashbetasselled lids on the verge of closing time, whiles ouze of his sidewiseopen mouth the … [Leer más...]

    Lowly, longly, a wail went forth. Pure Yawn lay low. On the mead of the hillock lay, heartsoul dormant mid shadowed land- shape, brief wallet to his side, and arm loose, by his staff of citron briar, tradition stick-pass-on. … [Leer más...]