cleeps. Close. And the lunger it takes the cherubcake while Rights cloves his hoof. Darkies never done tug that coon out to be tight in ribbings round his factification for incam- ination of a helo, chesth of champgnon, eye of a cackling noise like two springs wound within each other. Each helix is composed of a pril when, as kischabrigies sang life’s old sahatsong, an iceclad shiverer, merest of bantlings ob- served a cold fowl behaviourising strangely on that pint I took a svig at his Saxontannery with motto in Wwalshe’s f&enchllatin: O’Neill saw Queen Molly’s pants: and much left to her last. Or while waiting for my maniples” — “maniples” being