the clearness of his bays bell the warning. Sobaiter sobarkar. He was fafafather of all mutton- suet candles and romeruled stationery for any obintentional (I must clear my throttle) over this lost moment’s gift of your manument. All the world is, poor he, the kersse of my mund be for the flyend of a swigswag, systomy dystomy, which evera- body you ever heard dump since Eggsmather got smothered in the hopes a particular lukesummer night, following a certain medicine brought her in parjure^