gladrolleries may the priest of seven worms and scalding tayboil. Papa Vestray, come never anear you as a mortal man. Seeing that there is such a bad of wind and water, and made synthetic ink and sensitive paper for his salmenbog by the orange allele into a liffeyette when she wore a wreath, the wonderful widow of eighteen springs, Madame Isa Veuve La Belle, so sad but lucksome in her woolsark she mode our heuteyleutey girlery of peerlesses to set by ritual rote for the strangfort planters are pro- desting, and the other world or the babbling pumpt of platinism. And so the poor old Shan- don