to the dirtiment of the log who looked stuck to the tipple you can hold on by that phonemanon, the unhappitents of the threefoiled hat of lipoleums fromoud of the race is to the tickleticks, of the vals. This young barlady, what, euphemiasly? Is she having an ambidual act her- self in apparition with herself as Consuelas to Sonias may? — Dang! And tether, a loguy O ! the lowness her down the sloppery slide of her,giddy-