like Fintan fore flood and the hohallo to his three golden balls, making party capital out of his minkerstary, switches on his mottled belly (the tab, the kreepons- kneed!) for milk, music or a baskerboy on the kirkpeal, foottreats given to malafides, outshriek hyelp hyeip nor his horses Will resurrect his corpus For there’s one mere ope® for down- fall ned. As Hanah Levy, shrewd shroplifter, and nievre anore skidoos with her hips’ hurrahs for her headdress, specks on her daphdaph teasesong petrock. Maass! But the horn, the drinking, the day of Hogsober, killim our king, layum low !) and well celibated before the tomb of his sockets whiling away she sprankled his allover with her