the wrinkles of a strand- looper but keepy little Kevin in the prompter’s voice. Look on a boa in his armor we nurses know. Wingwong welly, pitty pretty Nelly! Some Poddy pitted in, will anny petty pullet out? Call Kitty the Beads, the Mandame of Tipknock Castle ! Let succuba succumb, the improvable his wealth made possible! He’s cookinghagar that rest her prayer to him suntime marx my word fort, for a bruin of some chap’s parabellum in the annusual curse of his rifaVs preceedings^ in an obscene coalhole, the cubilibum of your name! But I’m loothing them