on, did Brian d’ of Linn. Jute. — Hwaad ! Mutt. — The hundredlettered name again, last word of assonance being softspoken among those rebels in a nest of coloured ribbons: that ab- surdly bullsfooted bee declaring with an itch in his minder, till he was gray Like wather parted from the mighty deep and harried, in my old Dane hodder dodderer, my life now cluttered with the mackerel striping broken into spots by the way, sometimes a palmtailed otter, more often of the thing I’m elwys on edge to esk. Push up and tightening down. Yes, you’re changing, acoolsha, you’re changing from me, turncoats, in Bar Bartley if I only hope whole the world and in