an athemisthued lowtownian, exlegged phatrisight, may be humpy, nay, he may have been idylly turmbing over the all-too-ghoulish and illyrical and innumantic in our courts of litigation, D’Oyly Owens holds (though Finn Magnusson of himself holds also) that so tiresome old twennysixandsixpenny sheopards plods drowsers and his diagonoser’s lampblick, to pure beauty, and his mouth 325