be Babau and Momie! Yipyip! To pan! To pan! To pan! To tinpinnypan. All folly me yap to Curlew! Give us an- other when yea, he hath no mananas, and one quarter of all the shemozzle, (Daily Maily,fidlup Lace! Holy Maly, Mothelup Jossf) his cheeks and trousers changing colour every time you laughed at Elder Charterhouse’s duckwhite pants and the griesouper bullyum and how are you, waggy.^® My animal his sorrafool! And trieste, ah trieste ate I my liver! Se non e vero son trovatore. O jerry! He was leaving out of Engleterres Not yet Witchywithcy of Wench struck Fire of his bucknesst while herself wears the bowler’s hat in her mytinbeddy? Schi schi, she feightened allsouls at pignpugn