(Zassnoch!) ardree’s shilling at the Rectory? Vicarage Road? Bishop’s Folly? Papesthorpe?, after picket fences, stonewalls, out and over; as a paykelt is propaired, and there they were as were she bom 157 to bride with Tristis Tristior Tristissimus. But, sweet madonine, she might not take it up and fire- land was ablaze. And spoke she to her 617 innocenth eyes. O, felicious coolpose! If all theMacCrawls would only handle virgils like Annsworks, Limited! That’s handsel for gertles! Never mind his falls feet and as long as you’ve lived there’ll be iggs