We shall not come to party at that lopp’s, he decided possibly,
for he is not on our social list. Nor to Ba’s berial nether, thon
sloghard, this oldeborre’s yaar ablong as there’s a khul on a khat.
Nefersenless, when he had safely looked up his ovipository, he
loftet hails and prayed: May he me no voida water! Seekit Ha-
tup! May no he me tile pig shed on! Suckit Hotup! As broad as
Beppy’s realm shall flourish my reign shall flourish!