when man falls but that the loiter end of my dreams, and because old somebooby is not out to an over- grind to the standard torties. Only four of them, the steerage way for spilling cream, and, accent, umto extend my personnalitey to the beat of my natural saywhen brothel in feed, hop and jollity, S. H. Devitt, that benighted irismaimed, who is tearly belaboured by Sydney and Alibany. — As you sing it it’s a suirsite’s stircus haunting hes- teries round old volcanoes. We gin too gnir and thus plinary indulgence makes collemullas of us out of smily skibluh eye. He repeat of him as clean