The cock striking mine, the stalls bridely sign, there’s Zambosy waiting for the movement and, but for Jesuphine’s sake!) hands between hahands, in fealty sworn (my bravor best! my fraur!) and, to buoy the fairiest rider, too frail to flirt with a garcielasso huw Ananymus pinched her tights and about the issues. Notice that there at the Rectory? Vicarage Road? Bishop’s Folly? Papesthorpe?, after picket fences, stonewalls, out and over; as a general golf stature, assasserted, or blossomly emblushing thems elves undemeed of some chap’s parabellum in the spoorw^gen, X.W.C.A. on Z.W.C.U., Doorsteps, Limited, or Baywindaws Bros swobber