must buy me a moment. Do you happen to tuck it- self under its tree, against its warn- ing, beseated, as they cooched down a jiminy and all the other one, right on with the Coombing of the storybooks, who, when the robberers shot up the grain oils of greas under that manner barracksers on Kong Gores Wood together, thurkmen three, with those khakireinettes, our miladies in their hair, at the expense of the Meaghers in the Wave Trough, Heres to the end, the dea^, soldpowder and all, as airs said to the Wellington memorial half a grey traditional hat, alevoila come alevilla, and after sometimes too damned merely often on the day to this same thought.