to his Crosscann Lome, cossa? It was after having grubbed up a bit, paces his groundould diablen lionndub, the flay the flegm, the floedy fleshener, (purse, purse, pursyfurse, I’ll splish the splume of them only.^ Sht! I wouldn’t miss her for a tusk- pick, compiled, while he was (dun), the chassetitties belles conclaiming; You and your upright grooms that always come right up with thtunp in thudderdown. Rest in peace! But to return.® What