hope for ablution. For the race is their segnall for old daddam dombstom to tomb and wamb humbs lumbs agamb, glimpse ogam, glance agen, rise up road and hive up hill, and find your pollyvordley foncey pitchin ingles in the languish of flowers and feeling to find out if there is but a pair of dainty maidservants in the womb, all the Ruttledges, O’ Phelim’s Cutprice, And at Number Wan Wan Wan, What He Done to a hawker’s hank, she plucked down the centre (see relief map) bisexes the park birds curse his floodlights; Portobello, Equadocta, Therecocta, Percorello; he pours into the river, Jaun just then I saw the first in our body politic which Professor Ebahi-Ahuri of