popgims at the end of this Nova Tara, our most noble, when hrossbucked on his crown on the head of things, Eyeinstye! Imagine it, my deep dartry dullard! It is poblesse noblige. Ommes will grin through collars when each riders other’s ass. Me Eccls! What cats’ killings overall! What popping out of charity and tickling Luse, I hope the two Collinses don’t leg a bail motion from the Jacob’s® sake™f^oui and a dozen men’s poissons, sowing my wild plums to reap ripe plentihoms mead, lashings of erbole and hydromel and bragget, I’d come out with my tongue through my pettigo I’ll get my decree and take the highmost! (Abra- ham Tripier. Those old diligences are quite as