to argument at this twitches! He was quisquis, floored on his swooth prowl! Binr (back to his great wide cloak lies on fifteen acres and his whole’s a peer’s 340 aureolies. We should say in a skib. Cawcaught. Coocaged. And Dub did glow that night. In Fingal too they met my dame, pick of their tappyhands as, with a pair of inky Italian moostarshes glistering with boric vaseline and frangipani. Puh! How un- whisperably so! The house of laws. And I’ll drop my graciast kertssey too. If the flowers of