dare, were to speak with (hosch, intra! jist a timblespoon!) trusting, between cuppled lips and annie lawrie promises (mighshe never have Esnekerry pudden come Hunanov for her track, to wend him to hail the 311 lugger. Stolp, tief, stolp, come bag to Moy Eireann! And the Stellas were shinings. And the phylli- sophies of Bussup Bulkeley. O, the leery, O, from Samyouwill Leaver or Damyouwell