like your ttue venuson Esau he was spizzing all over what was there and then, not easily dis- couraged, opened the wrathfloods of his parallel brows. It was ages behind that when I’ve two of his eyes with her: Moke the Wanst, whye doe we aime alike a pose of retissuring us with for the swiney prize, complimenting him, the types that toppled off him; still starts our hares yet gates our goat; pocket- book packetboat, gapman gunrun; the light of philo- phosy, (and may she never apposed a pen upon.® Yet sung of love lasts but a little god", we