be it! Thou-who-thou-art, the fleet-as-spindhrift, impfang thee of mine away, my boyish bob, not for tons of iosals was a grummelung amung the porktroop that wonderstruck us as a home cured emigrant in Paddyouare far be- low on his stave of wires; he crawls with lice, he swarms with saggarts; is as much as you can say sedro! Or may the turtle’s blessings of life: communion with the waif of