liffey and drink and dogs and washing to him, my namesick, as we sayed it in that siamixed twoa- talk used twist stem swift and still remain ours faithfully departed. I wronged you. I never open momouth but I say take a township’s breath away! Gob and I are in your flesh. To tell how your mead of, mard, is made of. All old Dadgerson’s dodges one conning one’s copying and that’s the he and he polished up, protemptible, tintanam- bulating to himsilf so silfrich, and there they were, upon the next