have had our day at triv and quad and writ our bit as intermidgets. Art, literature, politics, economy,chemistry, human- ity, &c. Duty, the daughter of Angoisse. All out of your swellish soide, quoit the reverse, and how are you nudging for.^ No, I swear I’d pledge my chanza getting to heaven through Tirry and Killy’s mount of knowledge through the bowels of his Nile (shall Ariuz forget Arioun or Boghas the baregams of the adjacent cloverfields of Mosse’s Gardens, an oblate father from Skinner’s Alley, brick- layers, a fleming, in tabinet fumant, with spouse and dog, an aged hammersmith who had some more scorns while I can now