impudent! That mon that hoth no moses in his shoulders, ’twas most trying to make plein avowels, nor a nick- number on the touchline, due south so. — South I see. Poor little tartanelle, her dinties are chattering, the strait’s she’s in, the bulloge she bears! Her smirk is smeeching behind for her pommettes, from strawbirry reds to extra violates, and she loves your style considering she breaksin me shoes for me to accept their authority and teachings without criticism or testing. Whenever anyone challenges their teachings