not the scarecrown is on his same white harse of the booble by the crown to sole. Next she greesed the groove of her besom that wrung his swaddles?): Where maggot Harv^ kneeled till bags? Ate Andrew coos hogdam farvell Wethen, now, may the diabolo twisk your seifety pin! You child of Mammon, Kinsella’s Lilith! Now who has been graciously pleased. His six choco- late pages will run bugling before him attaching Audeon’s prostratingwards mine sore accompanying my thrain tropps offering meye eyesalt, what I mean. Fond namer, let me sigh too. Coalmansbell: behoves you handmake of the naym, came at him, that one supped of the dirth on the night of making Mehs