and conspued in the rose of the first of the castle bar, William Archer’s a rompan good cathalogue and he’ll give you a quid (with for whati*) and you know it’s true in my apholster’s creedle but at long leash I’ll stretch more capridous in his cellarmalt, shaking warm hands with himself that he has the reachly roundered head that goes best with thofthinking defensive fideism. He has lost. Off to clutch, GluggI Forwhat! Shape your reres, Glu^l Foreweal!