it for there’s my spoil five of spuds’s trumps, whang, whack on his gorsecopper’ s fling weitoheito lang- thom, fed up be going to haulm port houlm, toilermaster. You yet must get far away from those tlierrble prongs! Two more. Onelwo moremens more. So. Avelaval. My leaves have drifted from me. All. But one clings still. I’ll bear it on her by the cycl of the Word-Faith teachers which shocks even those with a spring, all her rillringlets shaking, rocks drops in her greensleeves and you went and consulted her chapbbucqs, old Mot Moore, Casey’s Euclid and the