Colchester Colporteurs (of Essex) took in swine children by the swaddle, raising them to become pamphleteers and gin stokers. Like all colporteurs, or at least those willing to speak, the Colchesters of Essex lived a cloistered existence, boarding with other colporteur families and spending the daylight hours hawking pamphlets and praising the word of Isaiah. When the Colchester Colporteurs (of Essex) weren’t busy hawking pamphlets they spent their mornings playing Snakes and Ladders or teaching the swine children how to fend off the unkindly when they gave them the piss off or a kick to the shins.
Dejesus, knowing how cantankerous and ill-humored the Colchester’s (Colporteurs of Essex) could be, having had the misfortune of one or two of the Colchesters putting the boots to him when he refused to accept one of their pamphlets, made it a point to cross the sideways when he saw them approaching, usually the fattest of the (of Essex) Colchester Colporteurs leading the way, the others following behind in single-file. On Tuesdays and Fridays the Colchester Colporteurs took the swine children along with them on their daily rounds, the littlest Colporteur pushing the pram, the eldest waving his hands in disgust, an awful stink rising from the basin of the perambulator, the swine children swaddled in feces and day-old candy wrappers.
Judge Holden lived through the Comet Tempel-Tuttle with only a bump on the head and a weepy eye. The Leonids brothers, along with Tempel and Tuttle, set up their telescope outside the five-mile fence, capturing an awe inspiring snapshot of the comets whitewash tail. Judge Holden came to town once a year to hold court, his judges’ cape billeting over his thin hairless legs, the humming of the church fans pricking at his ears.
Dejesus, knowing how cantankerous and ill-humored the Colchester’s (Colporteurs of Essex) could be, having had the misfortune of one or two of the Colchesters putting the boots to him when he refused to accept one of their pamphlets, made it a point to cross the sideways when he saw them approaching, usually the fattest of the (of Essex) Colchester Colporteurs leading the way, the others following behind in single-file. On Tuesdays and Fridays the Colchester Colporteurs took the swine children along with them on their daily rounds, the littlest Colporteur pushing the pram, the eldest waving his hands in disgust, an awful stink rising from the basin of the perambulator, the swine children swaddled in feces and day-old candy wrappers.
Judge Holden lived through the Comet Tempel-Tuttle with only a bump on the head and a weepy eye. The Leonids brothers, along with Tempel and Tuttle, set up their telescope outside the five-mile fence, capturing an awe inspiring snapshot of the comets whitewash tail. Judge Holden came to town once a year to hold court, his judges’ cape billeting over his thin hairless legs, the humming of the church fans pricking at his ears.
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