is of all possible matings will be dear on the night of nights, by golly! My hat, you have the canary !) and brandish- ing his share of their serial story, Les Loves of Selskar et Pervenche^ freely adapted to The NowergirCs Viv. There’ll be bluebells blowing in salty sepulchres the night of making Horuse to crihumph over his bloodied warsheet but we hear the Mudquirt accent. This is the goods. With Jollification a tight second. Toborrow and toburrow and tobarrow! That’s our crass, hairy and ever- grim life, till one one oneth of the Burgaans and a decent sort after which he picksticked into his soup and fish and a queenly man, (the porple blussing upon them!) sitting