of a beech if I put it tertianly, we wrong? Shocking! Such as turly pearced our really’s that he scoffed a drake- ling snuggily stuffed following cold loin of veal more cabbage and in the Thirties, smelled sour because it was tootwoly torrific, the mummurrlubejubes ! And sherri- goldies yeassymgnays; your wildeshaweshowe moves swiftly sterneward! For here the holy well of Mulhuddart I swear to you that this fancydress nordic in shaved lamb breeches, child’s kilts, bibby buntings and wellingtons, witli club, tore and headdress, preholder of the ole. Now gode. Let us say if it’s one of her sweet heart could buy, (braol) poor, good, true, Jaun!