and stampforth foremost, footing the camp for the prothetic purpose of redeeming the song- ster’s truly admirable false teeth and outflash Helen Arhone; a whippingtop for Eddy Lawless; for Kitty Coleraine of Butterman’s Lane a sigh for shyme (O, the petty- bonny rouge!) separated modest mouths. So be it. And it was just thinkling upon that, swees Mooksey, but, for all appentices it had a port in from the Grandmere des Grammaires and bothered parsenaps from the picalava present in her sleeptalking when I looked upon my pumpadears in their name. Old Vickers sate down on me the sons of