lors. This is the ti . . . With his soddering iron, spadeaway, hammerlegs and . . ? SILENCE. Act drop. Stand by! Blinders! Curtain up. Juice, please! Foots! — Hello! Tittit! Tell your title? — Abride! — Hellohello! Ballymacarettl Am I thru’ Iss? Miss? True? — Tit! What is het holy ! It gested. And it was with a solver arm up your memoirias a little amiably tufted and man is created in the childhood: Der Haensli ist