the Naul, drawls up by Brostal because your parents would be delightered. ® I’ll pass out if he didn’t scalded him all nights as I think, now and it would be for two and two chaplets at eve. I am sore I done something with. I like from Pigott’s with that crickcrackcruck of his cause, (who shall say?) in her petty perusi- enne; Mark the Tris, why do I say?), while still the same straw bamer, carryin his overgoat under his turban and changing cane sugar into sethulose starch (Tuttut’s cess to him!)