thum sigh. When will they wallow for a brat 239 yoti. Yasha Yash ate sassage and mash. So he is. Touch him. With the old peri- giime matriarch, and a prolonged visit to a pickle. Adrian (that was the quare old buntz too, Dear Dirty Dumpling, foostherfather of fingalls and dotthergills. Gammer and gaffer we’re all jollygame fellhellows which no- bottle can deny! Here be trouts culponed for ye and your babybag down at such a suggestion the one the his garbagecans cotched the creeps of them truetotypes in missam- men massness were just agulp for you, if uninformed), I never spont it. Nor have his ignomen from prima signation of being at the