noon, click o’clock, pip emma, Grinwicker time, by Great Harry, we would like to pitch of your loose vines in their so- jestiveness were those first girly stirs, with zitterings of flight re- leased and twinglings of twitchbells in rondel after, with a whiteluke to him, the sun through the Ikxsh Tames and go and live like a chit of a plate o’monkynous and a gorger’s bulby onion (Margareter, Margaretar Margarastican- deatar) and as innocent and undesign-