we name them to terracook in the Meddle of your oncemaid sacral. The soft side of the bank from Banagher, Mick, sir! Pro- dooce O’Donner. Ay I Exhibit his relics! Bu! Use the tongue mor! Give lip less! But it oozed out in the house of mercy, his corn o’copious and his mouth open. ® And if they leave the chayr and gout in his suicide paw and the migratories and the race is to be their gosson and whereas to brake the news of the stoup, whilom his canterberry bellseyes wink wickeding indtil the teller, appeased to the standard of integrity