I Crys Crys Lik a babey when I Rits my trobel is so grat to have my
Dafter so Crasey the Rick of our Lives such blows with such weapons of
a sudden & strike such brouses is worth thirty millon of Dolors for a
pouer man to have and others o brous me thay wont my Life to git my money
& so I must seel & be a sitteson of the world it is a wonder I am a Live
the burds will Chip offen before I Can git to sleep the Noys is so grate
all hell No more a b bishups he wants to be Deatey Let sade beast goue
once & twise act so Now toue much Laning make Rougs and fouls in the
Eand Dig a Dich & fall in to it white Rop or a hare Rop taks them in time
trouth
* * * * *
This is revealed to me how the world was made with what stuff it was made
with is the question Now I tell the with paper pen and ink and type the
Anemels to be the founders of it with a Lye & Lyes upon Lyes wose then
beasts or Snaks or wouls or bars tigers Divils and ten times wose with all
Lyes untrouths the world allways was and is Look out for trouth a men I