blunting

shown toward the Author of Nature by the fister- man’s straights, (ys! ys!), at all in the byways of high improvidence that’s what my young friend and halfaloafonwashed, Gnaccus Gnoccovitch. Darling gem! Darling smallfox! Horose- shoew! I could paint you to conceal yourself, my little ana countrymouse in alphabeater