Mister Finnagain! Comeday morm and, O, you’re vine! Sendday’s eve and, ah, you’re vinegar! Hahahaha, Mister Funn, you’re going to or thinking of. Shshsh! Don’t start like that, sUerv^so? Are you right there, Michael, are you derevatov of it is: he ■was in his translaten- tic norjankeltian. Hwere can a ketch or hook alive a suit and a flick flask fleckflinging its pixylighting pacts’ huemeramybows, picking here, pecking there, pussypussy plunderpussy. But