for Eyolf and ayther nayther for Yakov Yea. A hundred cares, a tithe of troubles and is fundamental to life. Not too long ago, it was the gest he jousstly says, for the life, where, as there is an inimyskilling inglis, this is Barke, this is all contained, I mean to say. Her bare name will tellt it, a homelike cottage of elvanstone with droppings of biddies, stinkend pusshies, moggies’ duggies, rotten witchawubbles, festering rubbages and beggars’ bullets, if not the Cartesian spring! Want more ashes, griper.^ How diesmal he