HORATIO IS CYNOSURE THIS FAIR JUNE DAY


J. J. O'Molloy sent a weary sidelong glance towards the statue and
held his peace.

--I see, the professor said.

He halted on sir John Gray's pavement island and peered aloft at Nelson
through the meshes of his wry smile.


DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING
FOR FRISKY FRUMPS. ANNE WIMBLES, FLO
WANGLES--YET CAN YOU BLAME THEM?


--Onehandled adulterer, he said smiling grimly. That tickles me, I must
say.

--Tickled the old ones too, Myles Crawford said, if the God Almighty's
truth was known.


* * * * * * *


Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl
shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother. Some school treat.
Bad for their tummies. Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty