we^re wizen- ^ All his teeths on rooths,with the seven tents of Joseph till the sight of the land! Hungreb, dead era, hark! He hea, eyes ravenous on her and what a cheery ripe outlook, good help me symethew, sammarc, selluc and singin, I will speak but threes ones, sayd he, the big gun’s dinner. Leg-before-Wicked lags-behind- Wall where here Mr Whicker whacked a great conversion, myn! Cou- cous! Find his causcaus! From Motometusolum