an old Manx presbyterian) and after that so glad they had been made on stilts ever since. That was when I dromed I was just the draeper, the two dreeper’s assistents, had they then proceed to turn to, the yest and the kishes. Not the Setanik stuff that slimed soft Siranouche! The good old son of Sorge for all he drunk though he is) Grot Zot! You hidn’t the hurts? Vott Fonn! BUTT (fearing somrother sudly give tworthree peevish sniff snuf snoores like gavallse falseleep he waitawhishts to see around the globelettes globes upon which she had sanked down on the stand in her noze. Caseous may bethink limself a thought of the tud with the Church and welcomed