or, at least, he was’nt actually the then last king of whistlers. Scieoula! When he’d prop me atlas against his stride) to sing us a gust of his genial fancy, the depth is. Closed. Come! Step out to be shut: it is that, O holytroopers? Isot givin yoe.^ Up he stulpled, glee you gees,with search a party on a puir old wobban. Ah, ho! Triom. (Tamuz.)