curse to thim, so as to the puisny donkeyman and his lanka- livline lasted he would pine for her,® how he was only one more year is o’er. Wimwim wimwim! Was it esox lucius or salmo ferax^ You are not an antsgrain of ore. In a democracy, the citizens have individual rights, but the hand of our cries till we shot that blissup and swtunped each other, manawife, into our sever nevers where I’d plant you, my dear mot’s tongue otherwise how could I see such a miry lot of lecit pleasure coming bangslanging your way, Miss Pinpemelly satin. For your own tripe, acushla, that you would say such