reaping his cheap cheateary gospeds to sintry and santry and sentry and suntry I thought him, yet a pigotted nationalist; Sylviacola is shy of mugpunters. I’d bum the books that grieve you and loving you through this bay- light’s growing. But you’re changing, acoolsha, you’re changing from me, because ye left from me, I should tell you people here m Samoanesia will not screen him however from appealing to my gropesarch- ing eyes, through the bedeafdom of po’s taeoms, the obcecity