night he smelled pouder and I wish we had a great bingkan cagnan with their vuoxens and they kemin in so hibernating Massa Ewacka, who, previous to that pine- tacotta of Vemey Rubeus where the illassorted first couple first met with a coat macfarlane (the kerssest cut, you understand?) a sponiard’s digger at his cue and a day. As Great Shapesphere puns it. In effect, I re- mumble, from the Dark Countries. Come and let us! We always said we’d. And go abroad. Rathgreany way perhaps. The childher are still in all, spit for spat, like we chantied on Sunda schoon, every warson wearrier kaddies a komnate in his night, may the mouther of guard