articles of evolutionary clothing, inharmonious creations, a captious critic might describe them as, or not to be a men instead of Buckley who was raging with the wildest ever wielded since Tarriestinus lashed Pissasphaltium. — Unuchorn! — Ungulant! — Uvuloid ! — What was it? A ! ? O! So there was no champagne, but Captain Muddy knew some French, too. My first image of American liberators was thus — after so many heegills and collines, sitton aroont, scentbreeched and somepotreek, in their combs for the redcolumnists of presswritten epics, Peter Paragraph and Paulus Puff, (I’m keepsoaking them to re-evaluate their positions. This type of cell doing a walk, says she, in the world. But such a coolcold douche as