(xx) Changes to the Regalia

Well sir, it's late afternoon as we approach the small house halfway up in the next block now. And here on the front porch we find Mr. Victor Cook all by himself. And here's a newcomer.

Hey, it's Tom White. Hi, George. You're just in many dead space? You're very witty and very pretty. If I had my music, I'd sing you a ditty. There's a kitty, what a pretty. You a little older, please?

Uh, uh, folks. We know you were home. How so? He saw we were out in the back yard and saw Mr. Gougher's walk along with sidewalk. He waited somebody in the front porch here. Had to be you.

Could have been Uncle Fetchur, couldn't he? Uncle Fetchur was with me. When I said, we I met myself and Uncle Fetchur. For example Fetchur now. He stopped the sit on the middle of the cistern and dig off his shoe. Rock in it.

Uncle Fetchur manages to get more rocks in his shoe than any 56 other guys in town. I think that's because he wears such roomy shoes. and he only says them about a third of the way up the person that wears extra big shoes and only listens them a third of the way up

they just open the sticks and the stones and rocks and hunks or glass and banana petals and various objects that clutter up the house and everything else. I have a little bit of a green ink on the professor.

Oh, yes, isn't it? The feathered macaras cut in the deep forest in the little bird's shinked through a soaked flood of delirious music. That's right. I had something left you. Gee, I hope it was a great big diamond.