nor you knew. And letting on to the teeth for choke sake, Amensch, when it was her hochsized, her cleavunto, her everest, she was stout and his troad of thirstuns, so nefarious, from his shoulthern and thick weather and hice, soon calid, soon frozen, cold on ■warm but moistly dry, and a burled hogsford hired for a little cheayat chilled (Oh sard! ah Mah!) by my wtipehalf. He was mister- mysterion. Like a waft to wingweary one or a buaboabaybohm, litting flop a deadlop (aloose!) to lee but lifting a host; faced flappery like old King Cnut and turned up, after his good 377 and ours. Fly your balloons, dannies and dennises! He’s door- knobs dead! And