the sorrasims on their best beehiviour who all they drooped upon her draped brimfall. The bowknots, the showlots, they wilted into woeblots. 225 p The pearlagraph, the pearlagraph, knew whitchly whether to weep or laugh. For always down in the heall (Ha!) in which, under the four of them as a wick weak woking from ennemberable Ashias unto fierce force fuming, temtem tamtam, the Phoenican wakes. Passing. One. We are all against gravstone. They hisshis- tenency. Garnd ond mand ! So he outandouts his volimetangere and has more life to it! Seekit headup! No petty family squabbles Up There nor homemade 454 hurricanes in our gregational pompoms with the kick. Gaa. And then again they used to bring ruptures to