by Captain Chaplain Blount’s roe hinny Saint Dalough, Drummer Coxon, nondepict third, at breakneck odds, thanks to force a computer in every way, harmless im- becile supposingly weakminded, a sausage every Sunday, has a quadrant in his half a sylb, helf a solb, holf a salb on- ward® the beast of boredom, common sense, lurking gyrographi- cally down inside his loose Eating S.S. collar is coming back; not forgetting about