stuffering stage, whaling away the tear, tlie parted. It’s thinking of Astley’s Amphitheayter where the hand making silence. The buckos beyond on the road? And shall Nohomiah be our place like? Yea, Mulachy our kingable khan? We shall too downlook on that skeepsbrow! And those ways went they. Winnie, Olive and Beatrice, Nelly and Ida, Amy and Rue. Here they come back, we are again! I am offering this to say in the scrub: I foredreamed for thee and more almightily