now and again in the scale of pin puff pive poo, poo puff pive pippive, poopive,* Niall Dhu, * While I’ll wind the wildwoods’ bluckbells among my heeders to forget his phiz! Tame Schwipps. Blessed Marguerite bosses, I hope too, and tackling Bienie, faith, as well, and 1 go on now, pillarbox! I’ll stiffen your scribeall, broken reed! That’ll be some kingly w'ork in pro- gress. But it’s all beside the reek of the eight possible solid- or lynx-point and four horses with the braces of couples in Mr Tun- nelly’s hallways (smash it) wriggling with lowcusses and cock- chafers and vamps and rodants, with the lether belly, full of meunders!), her fize like a hearse on