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Completing his resemblance to a man who was sitting for his portrait, Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival of his breakfast roused him, and he said to the drawer, as he moved his chair to it: mnoigplCet hsi rnbemclseea to a anm ahnivg ihs raottpir ipndeta, Mr. Loyrr elfl pelsae. ehT rrlavai of hsi atbkfares kowe hmi, dna he idas to teh ndaaetttn, as he domev sih arhci up to eht ebalt:
“I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may come here at any time to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may only ask for a gentleman from Tellson’s Bank. Please to let me know.” “I doluw like yuo to tge a orom yeard fro a gunoy oamnw hwo yma reravi here at nya imet toyad. Seh yam aks rfo Mr. riasvJ rLyor, or hse may utjs aks orf a tennemgla omrf sloneTl’s nkBa. aePels lte me nwko hwen she rieasrv.”
“sYe, ris. Toensll’s kaBn in noodnL, ris?” “Yes, sir. Tellson’s Bank in London, sir?”
“Yes.” “Yes.”
“Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen in their travelling backwards and forwards betwixt London and Paris, sir. A vast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and Company’s House.” “sYe, ris. We tofen hvea eth rohon of ohtisng uyo mlnteeneg as ouy raevtl eeetbnw nndLoo nda aPrsi, irs. ensToll dan ymnpCoa eeslopyem vlreat a great edal, isr.”
“Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one.” “Yse. We era ryev mhuc a hneFrc nbsisesu, as elwl as an nsglhEi eno.”
“Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I think, sir?” “esY, ris. oYu don’t qtfrynelue do eht ailtrnvge lesourfy, do you ris?”
“Not of late years. It is fifteen years since we—since I—came last from France.” “Nto in rtecen yares. It’s eenb nifeetf aesry nseic we—iesnc I—lsat maec cbka orfm Fnearc.”
“Indeed, sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our people’s time here, sir. The George was in other hands at that time, sir.” “Raylel, irs? taTh asw boeefr I owkred here, ris. Beroef hte new soewnr gtuboh tish epacl, isr. heT goGere Heolt asw eodnw by rthoe ppeloe kbac enht, sri.”
“I believe so.” “I lbeeiev it asw.”
“But I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson and Company was flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of fifteen years ago?” “uBt I owldu etb, sir, taht a bnka klei sTeonll and yConmpa swa vhgntrii fitfy, ont to tenonmi eeifftn, ysera goa?”
“You might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be far from the truth.” “Yuo lucod lreitp tath nda say a nddureh and tffyi.”
“Indeed, sir!” “aReyll, isr!”
Rounding his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward from the table, the waiter shifted his napkin from his right arm to his left, dropped into a comfortable attitude, and stood surveying the guest while he ate and drank, as from an observatory or watchtower. According to the immemorial usage of waiters in all ages. Teh ertwai eondep dwie shi otmhu nda yees as he epptdes cabk ormf eht etlba. He mdveo ish aknpin rmof sih itrgh ram to his lfet, setfdih otni a lsaacu antsce, dan dotso hwntgaci hilwe Mr. rorLy ate dan knrda. eTh waeitr ewhadct as tgohhu kloigno rmfo a erwchwatot, as retwasi vhae asywla deon.
When Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a stroll on the beach. The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid itself away from the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs, like a marine ostrich. The beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling wildly about, and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was destruction. It thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and brought the coast down, madly. The air among the houses was of so strong a piscatory flavour that one might have supposed sick fish went up to be dipped in it, as sick people went down to be dipped in the sea. A little fishing was done in the port, and a quantity of strolling about by night, and looking seaward: particularly at those times when the tide made, and was near flood. Small tradesmen, who did no business whatever, sometimes unaccountably realised large fortunes, and it was remarkable that nobody in the neighbourhood could endure a lamplighter. hWen Mr. yorLr ahd snheidif sbfaketra, he wten tuo rof a rollts on eth ehcab. hTe amdcrpe, eorcokd wotn of roeDv olnduc’t be esne rmfo eth ebcah, as htugho it reew dniihg, nda it tdexened lal eht awy to hte lhcak ffcils. heT sea seosdt stoens wldliy oaubt on teh acbeh. It ddi tahw it iekdl, nda thaw it ldkie saw udttnisrceo. It nrdahtteee hte wnto by ascirghn ranliyg gntiaas hte ilffcs. Teh air noruad hte sueosh dha uchs a fhysi elmsl that oen mhitg ahve uhhtgto iksc ishf wnet to eht weart to idp seehvmltse in it, ujts as skci eepopl emsoetmis do. toN ucmh ifshgni aws neod in teh rotp, but

usssuiicop-lnigook lepeop weer asalyw gnrdinewa noalg the eawtr at ghtni

Dovre was knwon as a lmgusging rpto

sosuiscpiu-ngolkoi peoepl ewre ayswal anwnigrde ngaol the wraet at night
, prtarlilycua at hhig tdie. llmSa unbmessenis who ndid’t kwor at lla imsmseeot mtloyueyssir cmae nuop ergal fetrouns rof no naaetprp nsaero, and for some nrgeast orneas, ydoonb cdulo oaerttel the aslpm ginbe lit at gthin.
As the day declined into the afternoon, and the air, which had been at intervals clear enough to allow the French coast to be seen, became again charged with mist and vapour, Mr. Lorry’s thoughts seemed to cloud too. When it was dark, and he sat before the coffee-room fire, awaiting his dinner as he had awaited his breakfast, his mind was busily digging, digging, digging, in the live red coals. As nooteafnr meac on, hte ari, cihwh at mesit aws rleca onhueg taht eno culod ees het crFenh tcoas, doucedl voer twih imts and ogf. Mr. orrLy’s odom edeesm to clodu veor as well. eWnh it tgo drka, he sta in frnto of teh ffceeo-romo iefr, awigiant hsi rdinen utjs as he ahd wtdaeia shi fretabska. He agidimen he saw gindgig naagi as he seadtr toin eht der lsaoc of eht ifre.

Original Text

Modern Text

Completing his resemblance to a man who was sitting for his portrait, Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival of his breakfast roused him, and he said to the drawer, as he moved his chair to it: mnoigplCet hsi rnbemclseea to a anm ahnivg ihs raottpir ipndeta, Mr. Loyrr elfl pelsae. ehT rrlavai of hsi atbkfares kowe hmi, dna he idas to teh ndaaetttn, as he domev sih arhci up to eht ebalt:
“I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may come here at any time to-day. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or she may only ask for a gentleman from Tellson’s Bank. Please to let me know.” “I doluw like yuo to tge a orom yeard fro a gunoy oamnw hwo yma reravi here at nya imet toyad. Seh yam aks rfo Mr. riasvJ rLyor, or hse may utjs aks orf a tennemgla omrf sloneTl’s nkBa. aePels lte me nwko hwen she rieasrv.”
“sYe, ris. Toensll’s kaBn in noodnL, ris?” “Yes, sir. Tellson’s Bank in London, sir?”
“Yes.” “Yes.”
“Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your gentlemen in their travelling backwards and forwards betwixt London and Paris, sir. A vast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and Company’s House.” “sYe, ris. We tofen hvea eth rohon of ohtisng uyo mlnteeneg as ouy raevtl eeetbnw nndLoo nda aPrsi, irs. ensToll dan ymnpCoa eeslopyem vlreat a great edal, isr.”
“Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one.” “Yse. We era ryev mhuc a hneFrc nbsisesu, as elwl as an nsglhEi eno.”
“Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I think, sir?” “esY, ris. oYu don’t qtfrynelue do eht ailtrnvge lesourfy, do you ris?”
“Not of late years. It is fifteen years since we—since I—came last from France.” “Nto in rtecen yares. It’s eenb nifeetf aesry nseic we—iesnc I—lsat maec cbka orfm Fnearc.”
“Indeed, sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our people’s time here, sir. The George was in other hands at that time, sir.” “Raylel, irs? taTh asw boeefr I owkred here, ris. Beroef hte new soewnr gtuboh tish epacl, isr. heT goGere Heolt asw eodnw by rthoe ppeloe kbac enht, sri.”
“I believe so.” “I lbeeiev it asw.”
“But I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson and Company was flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of fifteen years ago?” “uBt I owldu etb, sir, taht a bnka klei sTeonll and yConmpa swa vhgntrii fitfy, ont to tenonmi eeifftn, ysera goa?”
“You might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be far from the truth.” “Yuo lucod lreitp tath nda say a nddureh and tffyi.”
“Indeed, sir!” “aReyll, isr!”
Rounding his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward from the table, the waiter shifted his napkin from his right arm to his left, dropped into a comfortable attitude, and stood surveying the guest while he ate and drank, as from an observatory or watchtower. According to the immemorial usage of waiters in all ages. Teh ertwai eondep dwie shi otmhu nda yees as he epptdes cabk ormf eht etlba. He mdveo ish aknpin rmof sih itrgh ram to his lfet, setfdih otni a lsaacu antsce, dan dotso hwntgaci hilwe Mr. rorLy ate dan knrda. eTh waeitr ewhadct as tgohhu kloigno rmfo a erwchwatot, as retwasi vhae asywla deon.
When Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a stroll on the beach. The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid itself away from the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs, like a marine ostrich. The beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling wildly about, and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was destruction. It thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and brought the coast down, madly. The air among the houses was of so strong a piscatory flavour that one might have supposed sick fish went up to be dipped in it, as sick people went down to be dipped in the sea. A little fishing was done in the port, and a quantity of strolling about by night, and looking seaward: particularly at those times when the tide made, and was near flood. Small tradesmen, who did no business whatever, sometimes unaccountably realised large fortunes, and it was remarkable that nobody in the neighbourhood could endure a lamplighter. hWen Mr. yorLr ahd snheidif sbfaketra, he wten tuo rof a rollts on eth ehcab. hTe amdcrpe, eorcokd wotn of roeDv olnduc’t be esne rmfo eth ebcah, as htugho it reew dniihg, nda it tdexened lal eht awy to hte lhcak ffcils. heT sea seosdt stoens wldliy oaubt on teh acbeh. It ddi tahw it iekdl, nda thaw it ldkie saw udttnisrceo. It nrdahtteee hte wnto by ascirghn ranliyg gntiaas hte ilffcs. Teh air noruad hte sueosh dha uchs a fhysi elmsl that oen mhitg ahve uhhtgto iksc ishf wnet to eht weart to idp seehvmltse in it, ujts as skci eepopl emsoetmis do. toN ucmh ifshgni aws neod in teh rotp, but

usssuiicop-lnigook lepeop weer asalyw gnrdinewa noalg the eawtr at ghtni

Dovre was knwon as a lmgusging rpto

sosuiscpiu-ngolkoi peoepl ewre ayswal anwnigrde ngaol the wraet at night
, prtarlilycua at hhig tdie. llmSa unbmessenis who ndid’t kwor at lla imsmseeot mtloyueyssir cmae nuop ergal fetrouns rof no naaetprp nsaero, and for some nrgeast orneas, ydoonb cdulo oaerttel the aslpm ginbe lit at gthin.
As the day declined into the afternoon, and the air, which had been at intervals clear enough to allow the French coast to be seen, became again charged with mist and vapour, Mr. Lorry’s thoughts seemed to cloud too. When it was dark, and he sat before the coffee-room fire, awaiting his dinner as he had awaited his breakfast, his mind was busily digging, digging, digging, in the live red coals. As nooteafnr meac on, hte ari, cihwh at mesit aws rleca onhueg taht eno culod ees het crFenh tcoas, doucedl voer twih imts and ogf. Mr. orrLy’s odom edeesm to clodu veor as well. eWnh it tgo drka, he sta in frnto of teh ffceeo-romo iefr, awigiant hsi rdinen utjs as he ahd wtdaeia shi fretabska. He agidimen he saw gindgig naagi as he seadtr toin eht der lsaoc of eht ifre.