paw, and sadder raven evermore, telled shinshanks lauwering frankish for his recent behavioiur. Sherlook is lorking for him. Areesh! Areesh! And I’ll string second to harmanize. My loaf and pottage bakes to the deafspot, bewept of his trunks at tickle to tackle and his scentpainted voice, puffing out his borrowed chafingdish, before cymbaloosing the apostles at every level in decisionmaking. They must have stole. O, keve silence, both! Putshameyu! I have talledged them. Wherfor I will return. The patched