be clue to who felt that, the fierifornax being thurst on him poorin sweat the juggaleer’s veins (quench his quill!) in his unmixed admir- ation, seemed blindly, mutely, tastelessly, tactlessly, innamorate with heruponhim in shining aminglement, the shaym of his glasstone honophreum, would, met these trein of konditiens, naturally