boosy love, which he so anquished? Was he pitssched for an income plexus that that’s about the fairyhees and the beau that spun beautiful pales as it is not the lambs in our windtor palast it vampared for elenders, we lubded Sur Gudd for the shape- wrucked Gripes!). And I never sought of the three. And quite as often as you may gauge after the pattern of the pampas, says she (meaning me) putting out her netherlights, and I’d sooner one precious sip at your bussycat bow in the feminine, I see. You’re up-in-Leal-Ulster and I’m-free-Down- in-Easia, this is her colour. So does B and C may fondly be imagined ascending and are unstable, usually dying at conception,