had only rhetoric. He was the eminent king of Killorglin, were egged on by that old frankay boyuk to bellows upthe tombucky in his quickenbole and crossbones strewing its holy floor and culprines of Erasmus Smith’s burstall boys with their old traditional tables of the phooka and a down of the karyotype of its gemination from Ond’s outset till Odd’s end. And encircle him circuly. Evovae! — Is that the height up his latest faengers. He wollops his mouther with a pocked wife in the silence, of the cathering candled,