Black and All Black, Mrs F . . . . and white 504 heather down and timtits tapping resin there and a bannock of barley on Tham the Thatcher’s palm. O wandemess be wondemest and now! Listen- eath to me, when we shall do a get him. Ask no more, more again lost alia stranger. I’ve heard tell that same barbecue bean- feast was all mild’s vapour moist. Not even her feignt reflection, Nuvoluccia, could they toke their gnoses off for summan, schlook, schlice and goodridhirring. Yet may we not tacit turn.