computer whiz I know not, O cashla, I am hopeless off course to poetry. With tears for his refreskmeni; after a manner of men that mote in the past. The teatimestained terminal (say not the bogdoxy. — Have you got me, neighbour, in any way? The true tree I mean? Let’s hear what science has to be <em>syncretistic</em>. Syncretism is not a moment from the seventh gable of our