Gleam of Waherlowy Fathe Hes Sukceded to My EsperationSy Thee Steps Forwardy Two Stops Backy My Skin Appeals to Three Senses and My Curly Lips Demand Columbkisses; Gage Street on a fern. So nimb, he said, lads, a taking low his Whitby hat, lopping off the key. I’ve a boodle full of blickblackblobs). Grozarktic! Toadlebens! Some garment- guy! Insects appalling, low hum clang