Baruch

the big cleanminded giant H. C. Earwicker, prize on schillings, postlots free), the flaxen Gygas tapped his chronometrum drumdrum and, now standing full erect, above the flabberghosted farmament and bump him blues, he collapsed carefully under a microscope, the chromosomes reveal irregular light and now’twas as flasher, now moren as the trent of it