HOW THE WHALE GOT HIS THROAT
IN time, O my Best Beloved, te fise tarfise and e, and truly till at last t in all tute Fistle be ear, so as to be out of ood up on ail and said, Im ute Fisute voice, Noble and generous Cetacean, asted Man?
No, said t is it like?
Nice, said tute Fis nubbly.
tcail.
One at a time is enougute Fiso latitude Fifty Nortude Forty est (t is magic), you ting _on_ a raft, _in_ t a pair of blue canvas breec _not_ forget t Beloved), and a jack- knife, one s is only fair to tell you, is a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.
So to latitude Fifty Nortude Forty est, as fast as , _in_ to a pair of blue canvas breec particularly remember t Beloved), _and_ a jack-knife, ary srailing oes in ter. (o paddle, or else , because e- resource-and-sagacity.)
till it nearly toucail, and ting on, and _ not forget), _and_ to urned round times on ail.
But as soon as te-resource- and-sagacity, found ruly inside tumped and and , and epped and , and t most unten the suspenders?)
So o tute Fis shall I do?
tell o come out, said tute Fish.
So t to t and be the hiccoughs.
Nay, nay! said t so, but far otake me to my natal-se-cliffs-of-Albion, and Ill t it. And o dance more than ever.
You ter take ute Fiso t to e-resource-and-sagacity.
So tail, as last al-se-cliffs-of-Albion, and er, As, Nasations on tc as c of y, aken up t into a little square grating all running criss- cross, and ied it firm to forget t gratin