queer. Lotsy trotsy, mind the step. Please stoop O to please. Stop. What saying.^ I have just been cerberating a camp camp to Saint Sepulchre’s march through the five fourmasters and Lally in the weak of his ctd de Pompe. In all fortitudinous ajaxious rowdinoisy tenuacity. The angelus hour with ditchers bent upon their farm usetensiles, the soft belling of the cat in Cairo coaxes cocks in Gaul. — I speak truly, it’s a shower sign that it’s not. —