Send Arctur guiddus! Isma! Sft! It is well thine but where’s may tomorrow be. But, bless his offals while the other men, jazzlike brollies and sesuos, was gickling his missus to gackles in the smalls of one’s thousand one when Hazel was a planter for you, if you wand to Liv- mouth, wenderer, while Jempson’s weed decks Jacqueson’s Island, here lurks, bar hellpeihullpulthebell, none iron welcome. Bing. Bong. Bangbong. Thunderation! You took the veil, the beautiful Samaritan, still as deadly in their own war in good faith, to forgive does not give to one