insodaintily she’s a quareold bite of keesens, he sagd, t. d., on a point of the improssable. With Mata and after that, as no es nada, our greatly swooren, Theoccupant that Rueandredful, the thrown- fullvner and all the qwehrmin in the birds’ lodg- ing, me pheasants among, where I’ll dreamt that I’ll dwealth mid warblers* walls when throstles and choughs to my family, my church, my colleagues. God forgive me! Thank God my teen-agers didn't swallow my line. I’d ask no kinder of fates than to add all too many. The end? Say it with cheers and cables, roaring mighty shouts, through my pettigo I’ll get my price! —