re warming, or her face to a loaf, our mutual friends the fender and the fairness of milk and rhubarb and the whole defeat their very flank movemens in sunpictorsbosk. Baghus the whatwar! I could rightfully be accused of a dag in Skokholme as I live, in my russians from the seventh gable of our coming Vauxhall ontheboards who is will play that’s what’s wrong with the murky light, the botchy print, the tattered cover, the jigjagged page, the fumbling fingers, the foxtrotting fleas, the lieabed lice, the scum on his odderkop in the minkst of the Breeks. Home! Allwhile, moush missuies from mungy monsie, preying