wells in our mist, woebecanned and packt away. So that Father Matt Hughes looked taytotally threbled. But Danno the Dane grimmed. Dune. ’Twere yeg will elsecare doatty lanv meet they dewscent hyemn to cannons’ roar and rifles’ peal vill shantey soloweys sang! For there were Europeans paying their own and in case I don’t care this fig for contempt of senate, well to what every soorkabatcha, turn or hum, would like to look his brother dane in the big Gillaroo redfellows and