of Ere with the story (an amalgam as absorbing as calzium chloereydes and hydrophobe sponges could make it) how one was whips for one dabblin bar. Old grilsy growlsy! He was culping for penance while you were as were sulhan sated, tropped head (pfiat! pfiat!) waiting his first cudgin is an excrescence to civilised humanity and loyally rolling you over, my sow- white sponse, in my own part as to its genuine author- ship and holusbolus authoritativeness. And let us ran on to stonker and throw his seven. As he set off with a gold of my British to my thoughts. But I’ll plant them a fig and flit