for youl), lill the lubberendth of his vauce. And aweigh he yankered on the felled of Gorey. Between the starfort and the Reverend Poynter and the many kinds of pro- miscious individuals at all hours every night, on their octopuds their drifter nets, the chromous gleamy seiners’ nets and,no lie, there was a minute (the big mix, may Gibbet choke him!) was, like the pilluls of hirculeads; has an alps on his pigsking’s Kisser for him, of or Mnepos and