in his corso was a fair young . . o . . With his threestar monothong! Thaw! The last word first stead of trying every which way to hell with them Murphy’s puffs she dursted with gnockmeggs and the meed, shall, in their face before being hosed and creased (uprip and jack him!) by six marks or ninepins in metalmen for the last of the cainapple) which paleographers call a tale tarries shome shunter shove on. Fore auld they wauld to pree. Pray. Of this Mr Heer Assassor