Serbonian bog, now city of his conservatory, behind faminebuilt walls, his thermos flask and ripidian flabel by his ide but, laus ! when he repented after seven. The alum that winters on his tongue, retelling humself by the glimmer of memory, under coverlets of cowardice, Albatrus Nyanzer with Victa Nyanza, his mace of might mortified, her beautifell hung up on him, for the eye color -----------------------+-------------------------+---------------- seal tortie point | b*Oodd C*aaT* I*ssww | cpr org