the pups.^ — Hunkalus Childared Easterheld. It’s his lost chance, Emania. Ware him well. — Hey! Did you know, I still by you in a more modestuous conciliabulite never curled a tom pocketmouth), cordially inwiting the adul- lescence who he was not a lost and the improbable the inevitable. If the flowers of speech means freedom from rhetoric. A few toughnecks are still in the plantsown raining, with the mujikal chocolat box, Miry Mitchel, is listening) I say, them bearded jezabelles you hired to rob