| Chapitre | yea/nay |
| 1. Power In The Valley pp. 1-3 | nay |
| 2. The Most Threats Ever There Were pp. 3-6 | nay |
| 3. Demolishin pp. 6-7 | nay |
| 4. Ruminasiens Of The Fading pp. 8-9 | nay |
| 5. Invigoratien pp. 9-11 | YEA |
| Indectic p. 12 | nay |
10 
unsought intervensiens of such-and-such nature. But the fruit was delishis, and Peale’s alabaster smile and winning way shortly had them singing again.
And Kyte the Street King of Oltral did borrow ruddy Peale from a klatch of admirers, and ask-ed her, How knewest thou what fix we were in, out here? Whence camest thou, bronz-ed sister? (For Kyte suspecten Godplay.)
And Peale lay her hand upon Kyte’s shoulder, which gesture causen the Street King to flush with flattery. And Kyte could neither stay his eyes from casting about, to see if an his troop were glimpsing his par stature among legendry captains. But sure, none of them attended, now when most it oughts have matterd. And he clouded and thought, Never with the moment, never once, these chimpansies.
And Peale (Pay-ah-lay; ’tis Pay-ah-lay: say it) cockt her eyesbrow and answerd, saying, There was I with my supporting caste, out belonging in the
And I heard at the center of that great muffld commotien the wheeze and moan of thine own prodigious troopers deep in sleep, and knew you straightway. For every sleeping army hath her mark-ed rhythms & tones, her gruntage and sighs and terror cries, the which have been recorded by mine agents with parrots, and teacht unto our officers, that they might know the lounging factions. And says I, Zound, I oughts not to repose here in mine expanded awareness, whilst invaders shred the children of the Dame o’er in the next hollow. The Separator would scarce brook such dispassien by his own, says I. And we sneak-ed up and seen the banners of that damns boisteris Giant, and well! fates were seald according.
And Kyte the Oltralite brake out in tears, and thray his hairy arms about Peale, saying, I must confess, that long I hated thee for thy stardem. Hate was my name, Envy the scent of my sweat and void. ’Twas all we heard, the ballads of thee out pasting smiles upon the country, and sharing southern fruits, and oblidderating ugly foes. I reckond my manhood at a tenth thy womany. But now hast thou presented thy self tolerable to me through that neighborsome jesture of mass dispatch, dispatching that teeming mass of teemsters, turning situationel horrer to delight and restoring in my bowels a zest for arm-ed confrontasien—zest that gat daunted by those night creepers, but resurge-ed as I seen them fall. And my manhood is grewn full, for I have face-ed the enemy and weatherd my destiny as the vector of his downing. O, thou hadst thy part in’t, sweet Peale; e’en too had I mine, playing cheese to Fool’s mouse to thy cat. Such set of battlers we were, in one smart package on the field, cheese & mouse & cat, each vital as vital can be.
And look (saith Kyte): the womanhood that is in thee, found its complement in me, as expresst by that convivial hand which braved its way to mine imposing shoulder. Tho that young sun up there will not commence conflagrating my tender hocks for yet an couple hours, all ready hath
11
it lit up one of its most excepsionel days in this vally. Say. These youths out here that follow me, pursuing their maturities in elusive battle, might soon be left agroping on their own. For I am fired to raise me some seasond legions like unto thine own, and go about upon the terrain as some serene storm, spreading love and death as I see need. And whereas thou disbursest citris, I will disburse molasses figs, in passing through the climes. Yea, I will extend my pincers about the radicol natiens, and pinch them twixt love and death. And I will soothe their resulting abrasiens, mollify their grievances, with molasses figs. ’Tis a plan, the which is more than most men have.
And Peale the Tangerine tare loose, and rockt back and gaze-ed at him with one emerald eye, its twin sister being shut down in bemusements at these revelatians. For as she saw’t, this morning’s scrimmage were but some lesser jot in her saga. Of course, the Oltralite would be boosted to cosmicol visiens by it. And Peale backt away, and soon gatherd her battalions and departed.
——And many thereafter were the twelve days of wretchedness sufferd by Fool the Barby Porkopine until he passt. Porkopine, for they had slippt in and clippt his feathers as he snore-ed. And all his years together, they were fifty and one. But by Kingsmeasure were they six hundreds eighteen thousands, nine hundreds and ten; tho the people had long since ceast from counting.
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