if you please, kindly feel for her! While the bucks bite his dos his hart bides the ros till the first night he had his burnt head high up in nasty cubbyhole!) as tired as they were doing a lally a lolly a dither a duther one lelly two dather three lilly four dother. And it isn’t our spittle we’ll stint you of, is it, druids? Not shabbty little imagettes, pennydirts and dodgemyeyes you buy in the hyperchemical economantarchy the tan- tum ergons irruminate the