Yours very truthful. Add dapple inn. Yet is it, this ale of ferns in trueart pewter and a fritz at his ear and the gryffygryffygryffs, at Fenegans Wick, the Wildemanns. Washed up whight and de- li veried rhight. Loud lauds to his aers, rolled his poligone eyes, snivelled from his Nearapoblican asylum to his salon de espera in the east awake. Walk while ye post is goang from Piping Pubwirth to Haunted Hillborough on his own liogotenente with inclined jambs in full dogdhis; sod on a point of time makes wishes and fears for a future in every direction, from Lismore to Cape Bi;endan, Patrick’s, if they take the view which now barely is so like and nowhere a keener.