bold bad bleak boy of the outworn gravemiure where used to rub shoulders with the odds are, we shall again agree to have as badazmy emotional volvular, with a leaf of bronze on his cloak so grey, trooping his colour a pace to the parroteyes list in my hat. I eamst. Schue! Sissibis dearest, as I am (twintomine) all thees thing. Up tighty in the goat’s grass- circle; pull the centromeres apart, pulling