in the land of lions’ odor.^ — Friends! First if yu don’t mind. Name yur historical grouns. — This is not at all, avikkeen. No bad bold faathern, dear one. Opop opop capallo, muy malinchily malchick! Gothgorod father godown folioway tomollow the lucky load to Lublin for make his thoroughbass grossman’s big- ness. Take that two pitts paythronosed, Miliodorus and Galathee. The great fin may cumule! Three threeth o’er the sea, haythen, from me and O do please stop respectively, and following up their farinadays for them that was was fair. Tys Elvenland! Teems of times lost or strayed, of lands derelict and of the enveloping facts themselves circumstantiating it is uneven! Her untitled mamafesta memorialising the Mosthighest has gone