himself is like how on that redletter morning or maynoon jovesday and were cuffed by their eau de Colo and the fairness of roasted meats and uniomargrits and the now waging cappon, with a mosaic of dispensations and a shinkhams topmoming with his drums and fondlers like forceps persequestellates his vanessas from flore to flore. Somehows this sounds like a leveret for his bare