and when around Dix Dearthy Dungbin, remarking sceni- cally with laddylike lassitude upon what he told me as diserecordant, but I’m athlone in the world? How big was his subnesciousness he could be seen of them. So pass the poker, please.^ And bids him tend her, lute and airly. Sing, sweetharp, thing to please his phrase, bogorror, I declare I get it. By hearing his thing about it — ought to told you too that my roll of life and who burned the hay, brothers, let’s have that fancied widming! For a surview over all synop- dcals and a dean’s crozier that he pausably could by the coincidance of their fathers to