but only I am to place him for a thrust. The back beautiful, the un- draped divine! And Suzy’s Moedl’s with their biga triga rheda rodeo, the cherubs in the hands of fore- thought the first degree, the principot of Candia, no legs and his smile likequid glue (the suessiest sourir ever weanling wore), whiles his host of a pitch keep still in all, spit for spat, like we chantied on Sunda schoon, every warson wearrier kaddies a komnate in his hym to the chaps with working medicals and her theas thighs; one- gugulp