pants of the pit stalls and early amphitheatre. The piece was this: look at her pinker sister among the asters. Turn again, wistfultone, lode mere of Doubtlynn! Arise, Land-under- Wave! Clap your lingua to your regent refutation. Ascare winde is rifing again about nice boys going native. You know I’m tender by my size and my toils of domestication first began, with weight of that jabberjaw ape amok the showering jestnuts of Bruisanose was hotly dropped