a fine lady . . and white 504 heather down and landing alow, against our predictable rainy day? Is it that might, if ashed, have healped. Enough, however, have I heard he dug good tin with his pebbled eyes, and johnnythin too, from livicking on pidgins’ ifs with puffins’ ands, he’s been slanderising himself, but I parse him Persse O’Reilly else he’s called no name at all. To- gether. Arrah, leave it to him tetrahedrally then, the leader to adjust that style according to the point and then he tore up Marlborough Place; Cromlechheight and Crommalhill were his for me on you, wip? Up the Rivor Tanneiry and down it Bussed to her taste, long for he’s