"Go round my backhead, Satan," the people obeyed.

"Catch him and skin him," Towy screamed. "Teach him we will to snook
about here."

Fear arming his courage, Satan shouted: "He who hurts me him shall I
pitch head-long to the flames." The people's hands went to their sides,
and Satan departed in peace.

"In my heart is my head," Towy said. "Near the Oven we are. Blow your
noses of the stench. Young youths, herd blockheads Church over here."

Before the stalwarts started on their errand, the Overseer of the
Waiting Chamber came to the door of the lane that takes you into the
Judgment Hall, wherefore the Dissenters wept, howled, and whooped.

"Ready am I, God bach," Towy exclaimed, stretching his hairy arms. "Take
me."

"Patiently I waited for the last Trump and humbly do I now wait for the
Crown from your fingers," said Ben Lloyd. "My deeds are recorded in the
archives of the House of Commons and the Cymrodorion Society."

"Clap up," Towy admonished Ben. "My religious actions can't be counted."

Lowering his eyes the Overseer murmured: "I am not the Lord."

"For why did you not say that?" cried Towy. He stepped to the Overseer.
"Hap you are Apostle Shames. A splendid photo of Shames is in the