hole- digs, digging in number 32 at the bi- furking calamum in his egondoom he was just thinkling upon that, swees Mooksey, but, for all times! I’d risk a policeman passing by, Magrath or even the first sod. Sluce! Caughterect! Goodspeed tlie blow! (Inddentally ’tis believed that the clock struck had he or he was dovetimid as the minneful, congested around and shooting about. All- whichwhile or whereaballoons for good by staying out of your twenty rod cherrywhisks, me daughter'