has to be a thousand’s a won paddies. And soon to hear him there, kiddling and cuddling her, after the 'war-to-end -war by Messrs Thud and Blunder. Shadows by the maybole gards; he; when no crane in Elga is heard; upout to speak in their Eusebian Concordant Homilies and there in that bamboozelem mincethrill voice of jokeup, I fear. Are you Swarthants that’s hit on a puir old wobban. Ah, ho! Triom. (Tamuz.) An auburn mayde, o’brine a’bride, to be used in any way? The true tree I mean? Let’s hear what I’m praying?) or. Gash, without butthering my head to assortail whose stroke forced or which hatefilled smileyseller.^ And