Hark! Shut your obstropolos. Pflaap! Pflaap! Blaze on.
There she goes. Brigade! Bout ship. Mount street way.
Cut up! Pflaap! Tally ho. You not come? Run, skelter,
Lynch! Hey? Sign on long o’ me. Denzille lane this
way. Change here for Bawdyhouse. We two, she said, will
seek the kips where shady Mary is. Righto, any old time.
Laetabuntur in cubilibus suis. You coming long? Whisper,
who the sooty hell’s the johnny in the black duds? Hush!
Sinned against the light and even now that day is at hand
when he shall come to judge the world by fire. Pflaap! Ut
implerentur scripturae. Strike up a ballad. Then outspake
medical Dick to his comrade medical Davy. Christicle,
who’s this excrement yellow gospeller on the Merrion
hall? Elijah is coming! Washed in the blood of the Lamb.
Come on you winefizzling, ginsizzling, booseguzzling
existences! Come on, you dog-gone, bullnecked,
beetlebrowed, hogjowled, peanutbrained, weaseleyed
fourflushers, false alarms and excess baggage! Come on,
you triple extract of infamy! Alexander J Christ Dowie,
that’s my name, that’s yanked to glory most half this planet
from Frisco beach to Vladivostok. The Deity aint no
nickel dime bumshow. I put it to you that He’s on the
square and a corking fine business proposition. He’s the