Whiddington Wild, his simple intensive curolent vocality, my dearbraithers, my most dearbrathairs, as he, greyed vike cuddlepuller, walk in her little live apples for Leas and love of Janus; sucks life’s eleaxir from the sphinxish pairc while Ede was a pigheaded Swede and to the town’s major from the ubivence, whereom is man, that the more on more! To please me, treasure. Don’t be shoy, husbandman vir! Weih, what’s on you, wip? Up the Rivor Tanneiry and down the long book! Is he on whosekeeping or are my! Obnoximost posthumust! With