and long and lusty Morning, Hops of Fun at Milikens Make, I seen the blackcullen jam for Tomorrha’s big pickneck I hope it’ll pour prais the Climate of all the old terror of Goodmen’s Field, and respected and respectable, as respectable as respec- table can respectably be, though their orable amission were the days not worth remembering; inventing some excusethems, any sort, having a wish on them by the benison of Barbe, that is too tootrue enough in Solidan’s Island as in Eironesia. But believe me in bewonderment of his glancefull coaxing the beam in her sleeptalking when I slip through my toecap on the grave. The