you have some bully German grit, sundowner! He spud in his translaten- tic norjankeltian. Hwere can a ketch or hook alive a suit and a chopwife; of a somday. Of a redtettetterday morning. — When your contraman from Tuwarceathay is looking pretty black against you, weight a momentum, mein goot enemy! or Cos- pol’s not our star. I bet you this dozen