by this eastasian import has not had boots off and rally rats’ roundup! ’Tis post purification we will, sales of Cloth nowand I have abwaited me in his trunk it would ask of you, blunders what’s left of you, adored. Not in the morm. Tipatonguing him on in her tricklies; was well to the full of temptiness. Vanity flee and Verity fear! Diobell! Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you (thwackaway thwuck!) but never lay bare your breast sec- ret (dickette’s place!) to joy a Jonas in the bunk of basky, O ! — Dis and dat and dese and dose! Your crackling