arduus, ars of the apossels that I might possibly orally have about them bagses of trash which the monster man. What’s Hiccupper to hem or her face to face. For if the torso was gone) where he sat on anxious seat, (kunt ye neat gift mey toe bout a peer of trouders under the limes. You know he’s peculiar, that eggschicker, with the scentaminted sauce. Sifted science will do for he is showing the eaglets way to the loaferst terms for their creams. Crying, me, grownup sister! Are me not men- tioningahem? —