Sentence The Fivehundredandnineteenth

Now, Little Levy Balquhidder really wanted to know what was going on, but knew that this desire required discipline, dexterity and determination, or his name wasn't df3n3hho (well, of course it wasn't really that, which is just a kind of artist's impression of a name which is never spoken or heard and is only capable of being expressed emotionally) and it would be necessary to remember the present limitations of his body and – supposedly – mind; the fact that he was capable of fluent speech in 19 living languages and several dead ones, and could read a further 24 comfortably, had to remain what it was, a secret which he would never divulge even on pain of death, it was verboten; he was as yet unable to walk – this was always for the spirit the worst limitation of human babyhood, the inability to walk from point A to point B and to know that several more months would elapse before he could, did rather give rise to a degree of frustration and malcontentment within his breast – but he had already demonstrated a great ability to roll across the floor, much to the delight of his Mummy

and Daddy, Rilla and Rary, who were secretly glad that he wasn't yet able to reach much more than 10 or 12 inches, and so they hadn't yet had to make the house above that height child-proof – but. luckily for Levy, who, despite the overwhelmingly good nature of his spirit, that had over the generations occasionally indulged in nefarious activities the likes of which, at other times and places it roundly and soundly condemned as much as the next man or woman (especially when he sat in judgement upon the Bench and had occasion to punish those who had grievously wronged their

fellow citizens) for though loathe to admit it this spirit could honestly be described as 'human' by being possessed of those qualities and foibles which mark us all as such. he was able to reach the top of the coffee table, where he knew the local paper lay, after his Daddy had put it down, and so he soon had scanned it for any references to Professor Sir Clement Dane and, there, on page five, a photograph of the group of Archaeologists assembled at the mouth of the Cavern, with Roxy Davidova kitted out for the first descent and two Professor Danes, one on each end of the line, dressed slightly different from each other, so it wasn't an example of the old School or College photographs when a panoramic camera was slowly sweeping across the assembly and one intrepid boy or girl (and, yes, the spirit had done that on several occasions, in different identities) would dash behind the screen of bodies from one end to the other and lo! like identical twins who were not on the roll, which is rather a circumbendibusty way of saying that in this particular case, so far as Little Levy was able to deduce from the photograph, there were indeed, and he checked the date, yesterday's paper, so there are indeed, two Professor Sir Clement Danes extant in Melrose!