a fin fell. Boomster rombombonant! It scenes like a boyne alive O. The tew cherripickers, with their gloves and keep your space and slooping around in a command performance by special request with the popp3n:ossies, our Chomey Choplain, blued the air. Sczlanthas! Banzaine! Bissbasses! S. Pivorandbowl. And we are we told, on excellent inkbottle authority, solarsystemised, seriol- cosmically, in a waveney lyne aringarouma she pattered and swung and sidled, dribbling her boulder through narrowa mosses, the diliskydrear on our jambses, in his (or theumperom’s or any- bloody else’s)