Show tf ir JT I 1 sr id D TO HILL 0 0 0 0 breathes there th am with soul so dead As walter scott sang in a ballad acho ho never to his friends has said I 1 I 1 alone can mix a salad who when his varlet meek and low suggested he himself should fix it Z A 14 exclaimed with petulance no no give me the cruet and fix it we gaze on him with civil smile I 1 if we his strong esteem would capture our optic organs roll the e in throes of simulated rapture tp he s bound the verdant leaves to spoil this lettuce notoriety seeker with too much vinegar or oil or of paprika stin still we maintain our placid grin although salted much too fully and garlic cloves galore rubbed in V V e voice the eulogistic bul y for conscience teth us this way to revel in the product gladly we I 1 knowing on some future day well we mix another just as badly new york herald to R fa P P 1 |