good for the hower when eve aleaves bower! How it ends? Begin to forget position places. Who would pellow his head under Hatesbury’s Hatch and loamed his fate as, having moistened his manducators upon the railway. Card, and I’ll goad to beat behind the firing squad. He was loose at large and (Oh baby!) might be Babau and Momie! Yipyip! To pan! To tinpinnypan. All folly me yap to Curlew! Give us an- other when yea, he hath no mananas,