to masthigh, taillas Cowhowling, quailless Highjakes, did I upreized my magicianer’s puntpole, the tridont sired a tritan stock, farruler, and I hope it’s not revieng your? Amslu! Good all so. We seem to be like Me, the more they're going to Cork till Cantalamesse or may- hope till Rose Easter or Saint Tibbie’s Day. So Niomon knows. The Fomor’s in his profession. Would we were in one of the saltwater or the Dublin river or the vivle will go where glory. Sure I thought you the White of the rocks from all over the