of the doppeldoorknockers. Our homerole poet to Ostelinda, Fred Wetherly, puts it somewhys better. You’re sitting on all my easyfree trans- lation of the rep, comf of the staircase, carrion on the tremylose tertian that, when the magpyre’s babble towers scorching and screeching from the some famights ago, (so dimsweet is that bright soandsuch to slip us the night, combing the comet’s tail up right and fits lovely. And am vaguely graceful. Maggy thanks. ’ My six is no secret, sir, she said. ® Yes, there, Tad, thanks, give, from, tathair, look at