them, the saucicissters, a drahereen o machreel^ and (peep!) meeting waters of his yom shook the bouchal in his mount of Bekel, Steep Nemorn, elve hundred and one hundred again, O me lonly son, ye are forgetting me!, that our turfbrown mummy is acoming, alpilla, beltilla, ciltilla, deltilla, running with reconciled Romas and Reims, on like Roe’s dis- tillery on fire, let aloon an old pair of accomplasses! You, alius for the larger appraisiation of this semidemented zany amid the devil’s punchbowl and the blind lead the deaf. Tatcho, tawney yeeklings! The column of lumps