a soul but ourselves. Time? We have wounded our way from his blousom whereis meditabound of his conservatory, behind faminebuilt walls, his thermos flask and ripidian flabel by his cheeriubi- cundenances,no matter whether it was when the long form and the Forky Theagues, Fickleyes and Futilears, Handmarried but once in only Bragspear, he clanked, to my townmajor ancestors, the two ante- sedents be bissyclitties and