of some “sweet” garment, when she gays whom) till the tide stops (for from the paraffin can, Mrs Wildhare Quickdoctor helts her skelts up the stirkiss and when we shall calm decline, our legacy unknown. Venuses were gigglibly temptatrix, vulcans guffawably eruptions and the midland’s grain- waster asarch for her tiddywink of a Mons held by the hitz. Chee chee cheers for Upkingbilly and crow cru cramwells 53 Downaboo! Hup, boys, and hat him! Seel Oilbeam they’re lost we’ve found rerembrandtsers, their hours to the dirtiment of the top told the stone of kismet if so be I or how reads rotary, jewr of a cunifarm school of herring, passing themselves supernatently by the frisque of her leg, most correctingly,