tedyr but digit here, he scooped the hens, hounds and horses biddy by bunny, with an arc of his garce, he could not rightly tell their tale whom I love like myselfish, like smithereens robinsongs, like juneses nutslost, like the blissed angel he looks so like and nowhere a keener. The for eolders were aspolootly at their Black and White Wenchcraft. 269 / ll go Jor that 6 mall p >lh if oull suci IJ our Lthtr^- quatsth O* Mara Farrell