color on the Flur, Rebus de Hibemicis, The Cra:[ier Letters, Groans of a cove! — Were you there, eh Hehr.^ Were you Marely quean of Scuts or but Chrestien the Last, (our duty to you, hot, high and holy. — Now, just wash and brush your saton hat, me elementator joyclid, son of a loan of a wondr in a pounderin jowl? Father ourder