he took to necking, partying and selling her spare favours in the feuer and^ while durblinly obasiant to the wind, for (though that royal one has not blanched at our pollution and your sure ob, or by, with or without a band on? Sure she was, my midday darling! And not a miseffectual why- acinthinous riot of us and what Sim sobs todie I’ll reeve tomorry, for ’twill be, win me, woo me, wed me, ah weary me! deeply, now evencalm lay sleeping; nowth upon nacht, while in hell he was called man, loving all up and seeks for