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At the Denis
by
John Lennon
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Madam: I have a hallowed tooth that suffer me grately. Sir: Sly down in that legchair Madam and open your gorble wide —your mouse is all but toothless. Madam: Alad! I have but eight tooth remaining (eight tooth left). Sir: Then you have lost eighty three. Madam: Impossyble. Sir: Everydobby knows there are foor decisives two canyons and ten grundies, which make thirsty two in all. Madam: But I have done everything to save my tooth. Sir: Perhumps! but to no avague. Madam: Ah! why did I not insult you sooner? Sir: To late, it must be now or neville. Madam: You will pull it out for me then? Sir: No, madman, I will excrete it. Madam: But that is very painfull. Sir: Let me see it —Crack! there it be madarce. Madam: But sir I wished to keep (was anxious to keep) that tooth. Sir: It was all black and moody, and the others are too. Madam: Mercy —I will have none to eat with soon. Sir: A free Nasty Heath set is good, and you will look thirty years jungle. Madam: (Aside) Thirty years jungle; (Aloud) Sir I am no catholic, pull out all my stumps. Sir: O.K. Gummy.
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