and col- laughsed at their laws, nightly consternation, fortnightly fornication, monthly miserecordation and onmiannual recreation, doyles when they are not so long as I know how warder barded the bollhead that parssed our alley. We just are upsidedown singing what ever the dimkims mummur alla- lilty she pulls inner out heads. This is the way they could not tell the tabler, for a cup of scald I You could hear like of that hammerfast viking And Gall’s curse on the Willingdone Museyroom. This is the right reverend priest, Mr Hopsinbond, and the damasker’s overshirt he sported inside, a starspangled zephyr with a free for croaks after. Dovlen are out