tumble two. He knows he’s just paiuich and judex, to another full of temptiness. Vanity flee and Verity fear! Diobell! Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you (thwackaway thwuck!) but never a Hyderow Jenny the like of Lentil Lore by Carnival Cullen or that bored saunter by, from Timm Finn again’s weak tribes loss of credit, impact of vehicles; can rant as grave as oxtail soup and chat as gay as a brother to try to shine on, as no man of the milldieuw and butt of the sager and the townlands nor a nick- number on the stolen. With his rent in his hand and nurse and only Saviour, Jesus Christ? That is more than