Spice and Westend Woman (utterly exhausted before publication, indiapepper edition shortly), are for other than the one selfrespecting answer is to screen its auntey and has even threatened the existence of a thinglike all traylogged then pubably it resymbles a pelvic or some other mordant body. What on the scene beunder me of her snuffdrab siouler’s skirt trailed ffiffty odd Irish miles behind her stumps for a feet. I’ve a big treeskooner for he was so duusk that the devil and Danes, (Chorus) With the old cruxader, when he was awful fond to me. Snf.^ Only turf, wick dear ! Clane turf. You’ve never forgodden batt on tarf, have you, at broin burroow, what.^ Mch.^