Perplexed and questioning, a sad Ibis fluttered back and forth along the Bow Street clothing-store annex with quizzical eye and mournful heart. "Boola, boola," the Blot sobbed; "no more Dutch white lead tiles for sale, but we're expecting a supply of Gothic arches from New Haven shortly."
An insincere Blot was a taunting the Jester, a new Jester without the tradition worship of the old masters. Light dawned in Ibis intellect: unwitting Lampy had bestowed the Eli sky-blue tint to creaking portals that shrieked their protest in hues of yellow. The bird groaned and returned to frustrated vigil.
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JOHNSON SAYS VETERANS WILL WANT SECURITY
