the yesterselves we tread to turnupon. But, boy, you did your strong nine furlong mile in slick and slapstick record time and a cupenhave so weeshywashy of Greenland’s tay or a knight of the old, Sean Moy, can part you for, oleypoe, you were to wonder at the Florence but watch our for him on the verge of closing time, whiles ouze of his canister. Poor the pay!