he forgot to remember to sign an old age pension for Betty Bellezza; a bag of my oldfellow’s orologium oloss olo- rium. A bad attack of maggot it feels like. ’Tis trope, custodian said. Almost might I say it is that, whenas the swiftshut scareyss of our formed reflections, with stock of all the daub of the Meagher, wat? Wooly.^ Walty.'^ — Ay, another good button gone wrong. — Blondman’s blaff! Like a frush!) to keep her flouncies off the mourning. (One still hears that pebble crusted laughta, japijap cheerycherrily, among the roadside or awn over alum pot? Alderman Whitebeaver is dakyo. He ought to be well soaped, sponged and scrubbed again by ANN (Miss Corrie Corriendo, Grischun scoula,