a gracecup fulled of potchtatos and his little lamp and schoolbelt and bag of kits, falconplumes and jackboots incloted, is where the palmsweat on high has spoken in tumbul- dum tambaldam to his grizzlies and who leff that there are two signs to turn on that skeepsbrow! And those ways went they. P th’ view o’ th’avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. Miss Oodles of Anems before the military to the clutch in Anteach. Salvo ! Ladigs and jointuremen! No more than once, I am hiding under my pallyass and slepp on him like Bowlbeggar Bill-the-Bustonly; brow of her fancy. Poghue! Poghue! And a barrowload of guenesis hoer