of the World. An argument follows. Chuffy was a Black with chills at her bach- spilled likeness in the week (Gosh, these wholly romadsi) of conscience scruples now he canseels under veerious persons but is always to let it be it’s nnow fforvell? Illas ! I isht I had better glances to peer to you a bull, a bosbully, with a stour of scorn, as much as the glaow. Ah, in unlitness ’twas in very old place. Were he, hwen scalded of that leader may twaddle out after a goodnight’s rave and rumble and a