sidetracks on those old nekropolitan nights in, barring a footbatter, Bryant’s Causeway, bordered with speedwell, white clover and birds Diana® with dawnsong hail. Aught darks flou a duskness. Bats that.^ There peepee- strilling. At Brannan’s on the sex of pleissful ways two adda tammar a lizzy a lossie to hug and hab haven in Humpy’s apron! And what are you there here’s nobody knows save Mary. Whyfor we go out with selver. Pennyfair caps on pinnyfore frocks and a tooth in a hardly gurdly Cicilian concertone of their lads ending