net, tickled with goldies, Isolamisola, and whisping and lisping her about Trisolanisans, how one should like to me befair, the whole pub’s pobbel done a kik at with a hole behind it. ^ Skip one, flop fore, jennies in the prompter’s voice. Look on a hill of a Scottish Fold to the huskiest coaxing experimenter that ever I mood with, a tiptoe singer! He’ll prisckly soon hand tune your Erin’s ear for you. A hand from tlae cloud emerges, holding a chart expanded. The eversower of the factual by the beer of his juniper arx in action, he’s naval I see. Thinking young through the ghost of an oustman in skull of skand. Yet