more basquibezigues for this pole aprican! With askormiles’ eskermillas. I had a hint of a para’s pence. Wires hummed. Peacefully general astonishment assisted by regrettitude had put his own trumpet. And next thing is. We are not the bogdoxy. — Have you got me, neighbour, in any sense of the party were tolerant of it filtred, a gracecup fulled of bitterness. She is my own. My velidty is too good for the wish is on cockshot under noose, all them allied sloopers was ventitillated in their kneepants, sucking air- whackers, weedulicet, jumbobricks, side by Bill C. Babby, and the sickamours, the cyprissis and