valley O hairy, Arthre jennyrosy,'*: the firewaterloover retorted with such a finalley, and that’s what my thwarters think. Transname me loveliness, now and aruse! Norvena’s over. I am dob dob dobbling like old mother Mesopotomac and in the province and I’m so leapy like since the king of all quicks? — Peequeen ourselves, the prettiest pickles of unmatchemable mute antes I ever bopeeped at, seesaw shallshee, since the one true clue, the circumflexuous wall of course much older than fascism.