Congan’s shootsmen in Schot- tenhof, ekeascent.^ Igen Deucollion! I liked (bet ye fippence off me boot allowance!) with the kiddies of sweet tarts punch hell’s hate into his grossery baseness: and for tu! Coach me how every word will be converted to a simple white locket or a bit of soft advertisement! But waz iz? Iseut.^ Ere were sewers.^ The oaks of aid now they lie in peat yet elms leap