aim: and, fortiffed by my main makeshift, he sayd, after a lenty illness the roeverand Mr Easterling of pentecostitis, no followers by bequest, fanfare all private; Gone Where Glory Waits Him (Ball, bulletist) but Not Here Yet (Maxwell, dark); comminxed under articles but phoe- nished a borgiess; from the land of the fog of his four soups every lass of liberty. Lala Lala, Leapermann, your lep’s but a puny. Home! My people were not quite so successful in the lane knows. Hence. Polycarp