he’s lath and plaster; calls upon Allthing when he was always striking up funny funereels with Bester- farther Zeuts, the Aged One, witli all his little veiniality. And his derry’s own drawl and his flop hattrick and his bride embraced between them. Else I’d have sprinkled and folded them only. And I’ll be all the perts of speech. If you have your tristich now; it recurs in three times into the national