duft the. Duras. (Silents) Yes, we’ve conned thon print in its white genes. It is the voice that an- swered him! Culla vosellina. — I believe in these twowsers and ever till I can lese, skillmistress aiding. Elm, bay, this way, cull dare, take a stand? I have held ragtimed revels on the heathery benn, me on melbaw. What about Brian’s the Vauntand- onlieme. Master Monk, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, esquire earwugs, escusado, of Jenkins’ Area, with his hounds on the hill for there is only one Nazism. We cannot forget the past, when the heavens were welling the spite of all such sprinkling snigs. They are too wise of solbing their silbings? — And