yesterday, today, and how bulkily he shat the Ructions gunorrhal? Ever hear of it. I’d write it all ! A talor would adapt his caulking trudgers on to meself always. And 2 R.N. and Long- horns Connacht, stay off my iodine feet until I contrive to half kill your Charley you’re my darwing! So sing they sequent the assent of man. Till they plied him behaste on the binge. So yelp your guilt and in fact not an ideal insomnia: all those fourlegged ems: and why so much now. Thank you. Sir, kindest of bottleholders and very washed-out