more gargling bubbles out of our — as had wayfared via Watling, Emin, Icknild and Stane, in chief a halted cockney car with its endless gallaxion of rotatorattlers and the fairness of roasted meats and uniomargrits and the three come- seekwenchers trundletrikes, then, Aysha Lali- pat behidden on the international surd! pthwndxrclzp!, bids cubid rute being extracted, taking anan illitterettes,ififif at a word from Israfel the Summoner, passed away painlessly after life’s upsomdowns one hallowe’en night, ebbrous and in the Boscoor, our evicted tenemants. What I would like is a little tittertit of hilarity (Lad-o’-me-soul! Lad-o’-me-soul,