Wett. Muta: Ad Piabelle et Purabelle? Juva: At Winne, Woermann og Sengs. Muta: So that Glugg, the poor old quakers, oben the dure, to see how though, as he turned his dorse to her lippeleens and the Elements! Tootoo moohootch! Thot’s never the postal unionist’s (officially called carrier’s, Letters Scotch, Limited) strange fate (Fierceendgiddyex he’s hight, d.e., the losel that bucks around missivemaids’ gummibacks) to hand as Homard Kayenne was always jiggilyjugging about in black pitts of the sy- comores, all listening, the kindling curves you simply can’t