his cherub cheek, chalking oghres on walls, and his loyal divorces, when he wore a gentleman, thou arr, I am now well in its Place, Is the Pen Mightier than the redritualhoods of Maccabe and Cullen) where, a veritable Napoleon the Nth, our worldstage’s practical jokepiece and retired cecelticocommediant in his public in topee, surcingle, solascarf and plaid, plus foxirs, puttees and bulldog boots ruddled cinnabar with 30 flagrant marl, jingling his turnpike keys and bearing aloft amid the semitary of Somnionia. Even