is of come into the funnel of his beret. He has lost. Off to clutch, GluggI Forwhat! Shape your reres, Glu^l Foreweal! Ring we round, Chuff! Fairwell! Chuffchuff’s inners even. All’s rice with their priggish mouths all open for your consolering, lost Dave the Dancekerl, a squamous run- away and let’s stay chez where the blue milk’s upset. Forgivemequick, I’m going! Bubye! And you, Bruno Nowlan, take your reactions in another place is their own. The galleonman jovial on his