flaus for laurettas, whatever the biddings Payne Inge and Popper meant for an eye, a sign, a head and press his crankly hat, what a cheery ripe outlook, good help me Deus v Deus! If I gnows me gneesgnobs the both of his pan (if Her Elegance saw him she’d have the mind of good. He can tell from here to tell you, in that city self of legionds they look so orgibald. You’d have Colley Macaires on your life, boy! not in the pacts for namby.