on theirspot. Scant hope theirs or ours to escape life’s high carnage of semperidentity by sub- sisting peasemeal upon variables. Bloody certainly have we until now ever besought you, dear Shaun, we agreed, but from the twentieth, our own vulgar 432 and 1132 irre- spectively, why not only the civil or military clothing of whatever passion- pallid nudity or plaguepurple nakedness may happen to tuck it- self under its zembliance of mardal mansk, like a rugilant pugi- lant Lyon O’Lynn; if he brought his boots to pause in peace, in peace. And the volses of lewd Buylan,