that melancholy fellow'll play his handorgan until you say "i want a fortune" .At which(smiling)he stops: &pick ing up a magical stick t,a,p,s this dingy cage:then with a ghost 's rainfaint windthin voice-which-is no-voice sobcries "paw?lee" —whereupon out(SlO wLy)steps(to mount the wand)a by no means almost white morethanPerson;who (riding through space to diminutive this opened drawer)tweak S with his brutebeak one fatal faded(pinkish or yellowish maybe)piece of pitiful paper— but now,as Mr bowing Cockatoo proffers the meaning of the stars 14th st dis(because my tears are full of eyes)appears. Because only the truest things always are true because they can't be true
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