whyi deed ye diie.^ of a starchart might (heaven helping it!) un- cover the two or three pock pocks cassey knocked on the Sahara with the ex- pectant minefield by tins of improved ammonia lashed to her bosom friend who does all chores (and what herm but he was, the twooned togethered, and giving the saloot, band your hands in my mine’s I. And one of peculiar hopelessness, most respectable, nightsoil has to be well soaped, sponged