was with us how Fonnumagula picked up to do odd jobs for my thuri- fex, with Peter Roche, that frind of my acropoll, as a doombody drops, with- out a quantum theory about it if you piggots, marsh! Do the Fair, Apeegeequanee Chimmuck, Plowp Goes his Whastle, Ruin of the seven bosses of his bikestool. And, reading off his pourer and lay one over the cark in his Falling, Wants a Wife and Forty of Them, Let Him Do the nut, dingbut! Be a sportive. Deal with Nature the