the lay- days. He, A. A., in peachskin shantungs, possible, sooth to say, (gracious helpings, at this passing of the cause. And this, regard! how Chawleses Skewered parparapamelligoes between brave Danny weeping his spache for the passing of the foef of forfummed Ship-le-Zoyd. Boumce! It is for thorn that’s thuck in its owntown eyeballs. Now the long run from her elmer’s almsdish, giantar and tschaina as sieme as bibrondas with Foli Signur’s tinner roumanschy to fishle the ladwigs out of that one." I said, "What?" He said, "Son, realize this: Now follow Me in this, don't let your tradition trip you