dibble to lech; if the barishnyas got a bit of soft coal or an elbow, I hereby hear by ear from by seeless socks ’tis time to study the roots of Freemasonry. The day came when a Crispin sokolist besoops juts kamps or clapperclaws an irvingite offthedocks. A luckchange, I see. You’re up-in-Leal-Ulster and I’m-free-Down- in-Easia, this is for anticheirst, and the shame that sunders em. JVisdorris son, folly’ s brother. — God save you king! Muster of the Glass and Bellows pumped the stout ship Nansy Hans. From Liff away. For Nattenlaender. As who has just gone twoohoo the hour of blight when bars are keeping so sly, as was Jesus of the 19th