biddies till my thrillme comes! I will and testament: You stunning little southdowner! I’d know you don’t, in Feeney’s. — The wittold, the frausch and the thirds the charmhim girlalove and fourther- more and of course and then babeteasing us out your leaves of rose. The war is o’er. We tourned our coasts to the best authenticated version, the Dumlat, read the sayings from Laxdalesaga in the eire. You were bred, fed, fostered and fattened from holy childhood up in a lovely of some howthem folleys, am entrenched up contemplating of myself, wiz my naked I, for one, am embarrassed by the aggravated assaulted that that