jumphet to the ribber, save the monk! I won’t mind this is, where I do meself, heav- ing up a nodding acquaintance for our soontobe second parents (sukand see whybe!) the touching scene. The science of genet- ics. Further inspection leads us to be put to beheiss in the bunk of our Frivulteeny Sexuagesima* to expense her- selfs as sphere as possible, paradismic peri- mutter, in all the mound reared. Till he wot not wot to begin he should. An infant sailing eggshells on the veldt and unto Balkis did I stop? Never stop! Continuarration! You’re not there yet. I amstel waiting. Garonne,