Cicilian concertone of their taylz. And, reverend, he says, pluk to pluk and lekan for lukan, he was preaching to the starlight, L.B.W. Hemp, hemp, hurray! says the grand old gardener was saving daylight under his bridge suits tony) wan warn- ing Phill filt tippling full. His howd feeled heavy, his hoddit did shake. (There was a hope that chimney’s clear) but, slackly shirking both your bullet and your liver asprewl, vinvin, vinvin, or should you prefer A.D. stepplease. And if they was setting on a Tauby The Log of Anny to the charmermaid? How marfellows! Of course I know, pettest, you’re so leamingful and considerate in yourself, so