It is needless, of course, to say that this searching walk was in vain. Whatever lay white in his road he rushed at, and in his gizzard he cursed the vast number of pieces of white paper which did somehow, as though distributed by innumerable malicious Greyquills, attract his eye and retard his progress whilst he turned them over.
Legend of Inca, "God love ye, byes," he cried, "it's a foine pair ye are, an' no mistake; so it's sick y've been, Maurice?"
◆ Messages, Voice
Legend of Inca, Video
Legend of Inca
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Legend of Inca "Oh, gee whitticker! nobody 'ud believe that, Bill.".
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