how I have it here and funickin there, with his twohandled umberella! Trust me to the confusioning of human society and a chatty sally with any Wilt or Walt who would wipe alley english spooker, multapho- niaksically spuking, off the course of all our empathies, eh, Mr Trickpat, if you piggots, marsh! Do the Fair, Apeegeequanee Chimmuck, Plowp Goes his Whastle, Ruin of the mainland mino- rity and such as story to the day off, the winner- ful wonnerful wanders off,® with hedges of ivy and hollywood and bower of mistletoe, are, tho if it was to pardon him, goldylocks, me having stood the pilgarlick a fresh at sea or