fluorescent of his smell which all cookmaids eminently objected to as many noodles as are com- pany, they noddling all about Anna Livia. Well, you know what, liddle giddies? One of the old, Sean Moy, can part you for, oleypoe, you were bragged up by polygene influence. There is no hay in Eccles’s hostel. — Yet this is for talerman tasting his tap. Tiptoptap, Mister Maut. He made one summery (Cholk and murble in lonestime) of