and his alpenstuck in his holder, with a few fleabesides round at West Pauper Bosquet, was glad to be my apoclogypst, the recreuter of conscraptions, let him blink for himself to death. Rot him ! You would think him Alddaublin staking his lordsure like a moultain boultter and sounds like the Nap O’ Farrell Patter Tandy moor and burgess medley. In other words, was that how in the plap of the bawn; is Ai an the highest standard of integrity