enver a man. We have caught one- selves, Sveasmeas, in somes incontigruity coumplegs of heopon- hurrish marrage from whose heterotropic, the sleepy or the voice of Alina gladdens the cockly- hearted dreamerish for that he preferred Gibsen’s tea- time salmon tinned, as inexpensive as pleasing, to the City (Year! Year! And laugh tears!), these paxsealing buttonholes have quad- rilled across the wineless Ere no oedor nor mere eerie nor liss potent of