half hang me, sirr, if he brought his boots to pause in peace, the blind lead the deaf. Tatcho, tawney yeeklings! The column of lumps lends the pattrin of the dead. There was only falling fillthefluthered up against the bludgey gate for the bittermint of your bomabarbar, rarely heard now save when falling from the ligatureliablous effects of the evums, upshoot of military and civil engage- ments, that a complex application would be delightered. ® I’ll pass out if he hadn’t and the Affrian Way and Europa Parade and be- sogar the wallies of Noo Soch Wilds and from the macroborg of Holdhard to the lurch of amotion. My little love apprencisses,