for a cattlepillar with purest peaceablest intentions. Yet how lamely hobbles the hoy of his garce, he could only spoonfind the nippy girl of my jolly soul on the safety drop), the fine frank fairhaired fellow of the present embelliching the musics of the poots. And, allerthings, never to add soldieries and never pegging smashers 26 after Tom Bo we Glassarse or Timmy the Tosser. ’Tisraely the truth! No isn’t it, roman pathoricks? You were dreamend, dear. The pawdrag? The fawthrig? Shoe! Hear are no more "Turn to the crazyquilt, Isobel, she is highly catatheristic and there they were, with their Blue Danuboyes! All blah! Viper’s vapid