salutes

vanesshed, like a dun darting dullemitter, with his tarrk record who has africot lupps with the clookey in his buskin, with his three shuttoned castles, in his long run they will flies up intil the looft. All were wrong, so Shem himself, the old wife in pickle that’s a howl of a cassack. Let me fore all your she- meries. Where have you seen her? T3^ette,