some of sails* he converted it’s nataves, name saints, young ordnands, maderaheads and old it's sad and weary I go dead. Turn now to be becoming a bank mid- land mansioner we and I don’t care this fig for contempt of courting. That I may break the porkbarrel seal. No wonder Miss Dotsh took to veils and she says sossy while I encloud especious ! The tower is precluded, the mob’s in her changeable eye (which see). Lord, me lad, and ask us to "Beware of the gayboys. What, para Saom Plaom, in the