"O thunder and turf!" "FWASER!" says Bullwig.

"O--ah--hum--haw--yes--no--why,--that is weally--no, weally, upon my weputation, I never before heard the name of the pewiodical.

By the by, Sir John, what wemarkable good clawet this is; is it Lawose or Laff-- ?" Laff, indeed! he cooden git beyond laff; and I'm blest if I could kip it neither,--for hearing him pretend ignurnts, and being behind the skreend, settlin somethink for the genlmn, I bust into such a raw of laffing as never was igseeded.
"Hullo!" says Bullwig, turning red.

"Have I said anything impwobable, aw widiculous?
for, weally, I never befaw wecollect to have heard in society such a twemendous peal of cachinnation--that which the twagic bard who fought at Mawathon has called an anewithmon gelasma." "Why, be the holy piper," says Larder, "I think you are dthrawing a little on your imagination.

Not read Fraser! Don't believe him, my lord duke; he reads every word of it, the rogue! The boys about that magazine baste him as if he was a sack of oatmale.