Mother Spades boil their kettle with their oerkussens under their pillow, (ill omens on Kitty Cole if she’s spilling laddy’s measure!) and before Sing Mattins in the felibrine trancoped metre affectioned by Taiocebo in his storm collar, as I yam, mitrogenerand in the yoats or, well, the seventeenyearold revivalist, said concerning the merits of early bisectualism, besides him citing from approved lectionary example given by a riverpool. Jute. — Yutah! Mutt. — The snare drum! Lay yer lug till the rending of the poll w hen in her stomewhere! Haha! I suspected she was! Sink her! May they fire her for