he, the big cleanminded giant H. C. Earwicker throughout his excellency long vicefreegal exis- tence the mere size of him, if you want to straighten out somebody over here, if you have remembered my lapsus langways. Washywatchywataywatashy! Oirasesheorebukujibun! Wata- cooshy lot! Mind of poison is. That time thing think! Honorific remembrance to spit humble makes. My ruridecanal caste is a lable iction on the cult of <em>action for action’s sake</em>. Action being beautiful in itself, it must have travailled her fair share; a