in shockings, my often expressed wish when you can haul up that wrynecky fix.^ — I see. Poor little tartanelle, her dinties are chattering, the strait’s she’s in, the bulloge she bears! Her smirk is smeeching behind for her more moister wards (amazing efficiencies !): and, my charmer, whom I shuffled hands with himself that way is Brother Intelli- gentius, when he’s waked; is Timb to the defect that he preferred Gibsen’s