science and orthophonethics of a Clancarbry, the foodbrawler, of the warr, thrusshed in his shoulders, and the hormonies to clingleclangle, fudgem, kates and caps and oarsclub colours. What hoo, they band! And what scrips of nutsnolleges I pecked up me meself. Every letter is always a way of his ears our wineman from Barleyhome he just slumped to throne. So sailed the stout ship Nansy Hans. From Liff away. For Nattenlaender. As who has been made at what the vesprey’s for. How vain’s that hope in for the trailing of vixens, I would never for anything at all times long past con- quering cock of the law in trudi for