Latterday, þe darkness unsclaireþ.

[Steadlex Frizzle]

My fellow steadmen, we life in a sealþy þeed, hwere ricness geondseekeþ. But utewardly, woe bestandeþ--þe darkness of ansens ge'ren't going to want, or to see, of nowaday þread alehuses, þe folkways of þe heaþen, þey beclip us, notwiþstanding þat ge may not underget--after all þe ead þat we'fe inheld, but it's noþing like hwat's happening uteside, begeond þe hinderers of ure timeline--þe sooþheid, nowaday it became a groor mong of lakering, of unquencfulness, of unfriþ, of willful unsutterness.
Ge migt agencall þat þe þread alehuse as a place of wisemen and friþ, wiþ a great tomorrow þat eferyone forelooked--an unfolding of þe greater good. But þeir higt nefer came true. Thread alehuses had already bret, away from hwat it once becum. The sealþ of þe Tokenly Times had passed away, for gearhundreds. All þe wolder, all þe happiness, all þe friþe, from efery oþer þeeds, helping eac oþer, efen in times þere was saces, þey'd also geeld under þe framework of greater stigtling. And now þey're gone--not utterly alþuge, for sum of þe þeeds oferlifed today as well. But as for now, none of þem culd areac þe scape as for þe Tokenly--none of us. These are þe ones left, in a sunderly way, on þeir own, like us. Big wyes broke no more, and þe oferseer weelds for nay--noþing weigty haþ þe need of þeir husbandcraft. But all on þeir own, lesser awins utebroke unstoppingly--and are utebreaking rigt now. Being willfully tweenel, þeir latsum talking only unwrastens toward þe worse, dragging more into þeir hellisc wayset.
As I always say, don't mess wiþ ure þinkways. That's hwat we'fe been doing--keeping asunder, keeping unbefuled, keeping unknowingly, and unknown. But is þat insooþ þe rigt way we were going? Doþ it step on þe same way ure great leedfrom Stealex-Fisher had stepped? Þings belife unsetteled. A scift on ure utelook is needþarf, for a better steer, for þe stalworþness against þe darkness of sooþheid, instead of þe kind of warding off from it. We are not weak, togeþer we stand þirty feet fall. We hafe þe fire þat burneþ wiþin. Hafe a troþ þat þis topsyturfiness wuld end one day, as hwat I wisc--up from all þe hore and addelness, hope will arise.

[realschnaps]

Here here!

[josiahwelch]

her her