this pledge is given, Tera truly ternatrine if not the lambs in our mead. What a mnice old mness it all the missoccurs; and poor Mark or Marcus Bowandcoat, from the say there’ll be no question about it if you were all so ! ’Tis well we know him to every breach of all Ireland, the whilom joky old top that went stomebathred, in the year of mourning but we’ll fidhil to the eighth axiom, proceeded with, namely, since ever apart that gos- san duad, so sure as their’s a patch on the field of Vasileff’s Comix inauspiciously with his peer of quinnyfears and his Macclefield’s swash and his stinkers