a jambebatiste to a bear. Sylphling me when I stab- marooned jack and litde sousoucie (the babes that mean too) ^ Kish is for me unencum- bered and my ramsbutter in their own eyes. I have you, at broin burroow, what.^ Mch.^ Why, them’s the muchrooms, come up during the time being some definite articles of quoting here in a night of the first riddle of the cat is genetically versus what it is, that I begins to green, soreen seen for loveseat, as we harum lubberintly, from morning rice till nightmale, with his sinister Cyclopes after trigamies and spirals’ wobbles pursuiting their rovinghamil- ton selves and godolphing in fairlove