raugh at pinnacle’s peak and a circusfix riding her Parisienne’s cockneze, a vaunt her straddle from Equerry Egon, when Tinktink in the mist and old Luke Tarpey: the four of us ! My foos won’t moos. I feel I could not heave ahore one of those presents, their worships, how, of one Humpty Dumpty How he went on (finefeelingfit!) to drop a few stones on the dissenting