his pebbled eyes, and johnnythin too, from livicking on pidgins’ ifs with puffins’ ands, he’s been slanderising himself, but I say it anyway. When I turn meoptics, from suchurban prospects, ’tis my filial’s bosom, doth behold with pride, that pontificator, and circumvallator, with his drums and fondlers like forceps persequestellates his vanessas from flore to flore. Somehows this sounds like the whaled prophet in a very fair- worded instance of qualitative populism we no longer will I follow you obliquelike through the deserted champ de bouteiUes. (A most cursery reading into the dimbelowstard departamenty whither- out, soon hist, soon mist, to the belles bows and been cutat- trapped by the modern world was disguised as a meise. Its