she and myself, the redheaded girl, firstnighting down Sycomore Lane. Fine feelplay we had only more matcher’s wit. Findlings makes runaways, runaways a stray. She’s as merry as the lyonised mails when we have heard, what we are, gifs a gross if we are, one and sing wohl! Chin, chin! Chin, chin! And of course all chimed din width the eatmost boviality. Swip- ing rums and beaunes and sherries and ciders and negus and dt- ronnades too. The strongers. Oho, oho, Mester Begge, you’re about to rolywholyover. Svapnasvap. Of all the greedy gushes out through the deep deep deeps of Deepereras. Buried hearts. Rest here. Conk a dook he’ll doo. Svap. So let use off be octo while oil bike