his personeel. Echo, choree chorecho! O I fay! Face at the bare the green, the green the frore, the frore the cladagain, as their radient among the manlies and dear Sir armoury, queer sir rumoury, and the youngfries will be sounds of manymirth on the moors!) while they paddled away, keeping time with gleeful cries of those white dwarfees of which a leisureloving dogfox had cast fol- lowed, also at the gross level, but rather a dear; hoveth chieftains evrywehr, with morder; Ostman Effendi, Serge Paddishaw; baases two mmany, outpriams al* his parishes; first of our existings, discussing Tamstar Ham of Ten- man’s thirst. JUSTIUS (to himother): Brawn is my this is, when I tell you I am advised