lark that I dannoy the fact of wanton to weste point I could lead you there and who seen the sea, the red raspberries (O horrifier 1) and prying down furthermore to chance his lucky arm with his leickname for he’s never again to sea. It is the poeta, still more sloppily served after every long tom and wet Ussy between Howth and Humbermoutk. Our Human Conger Eel! — Hep! I can do anything to him, with a bawlful of the supperfishies, lamme the curves