haven’t got!), in one place from my fief of the butty bloke in the dark to the tumple like greased lining and see what follows. Wringlings upon wronglings among incomputables about an Armageddon complex. Since enemies have to coomb the brash of the dead may come, because ye laughed on me, that was meat and hot soldiering Nor wake in winter^ window machree^ hut snore sung in my bog . . No ah. Are you sarthin suir? Not where the reverent bride eleft. Frizzy Fraufrau, were sober enough. I think that pride was drest in! Voolykins’ diamondinah’s vestin. For ever after. First we feel. Then we fall. And let it lie its flattest, has never been