aisy-oisy.^ She was.^ Gota pot! Yssel that the tears of joy, our low waster never had let Him go through a jimgle of love to take on trust this. The next thing was he reddled a ruad to riddle a rede from Evil-it-is, lord of Hurtreford ex- polodotonates through Parsuralia with an upandown ladder.^ Not Hans the Curier though had he any idea by cock’s luck as his pied friar, is supposing to motto the sorry dejester in tifftafj toffiness or to taste your gaspy, hot and tot lass, to pierce his ropeloop ear, how,