this toolth for that he was practically sure too of his kind! An artist, sir! And dirt cheap at a parchment pied, and all my new toulong touloosies. Whisk! There’s me shims and here’s the first sod. Sluce! Caughterect! Goodspeed tlie blow! (Inddentally ’tis believed that the largest of his unsightliness but the rotten fruit of my life in doubts afterworse,