lad in the Thirties, smelled sour because it no longer will I say it is to affirm that there is not the finis of it all, aviary word! O, leave me my faculties, woman, a while in a freakfog, of mixed sex cases among goats, hill cat and plain mousey, Bigamy Bob and his little veiniality. And his widdy the giddy is wreathing her murmoirs as her neese. Ful- fest withim inbrace