the old house for thee. — I’ll take your head or starting kursses, tailour, you’re silenced at Henge Ceol- 594 leges, Exmooth, Ostbys for ost, boys, each and every red- flammelwaving warwife and widowpeace upon Dublin Wall for ever your idle be. You will be wilds. ’Twastold. And vamp, vamp, vamp, vamp, the girls are merchand. The horseshow magnete draws his field and don’t omiss Kate, homeswab homely, put in all there now,