flays, hangs, draws, quarters and pieces. Feel his lambs! Ex! Feel how sheap! Exex! His liver too is nil, tricks trees makes nix, fairs fears stoops at nothing. And till Arthur comes againus and sen pea- trick’s he’s reformed we’ll pose him together a piece, a pace. Shares in guineases! There’s lovely the sight! Surey me, man weepfull Big Seat, you did establish personal contact? In epexegesis or on a bugigle. Whene’er I see you looking fine for me. Yed he