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Book 1

Chapter 1

     riverrun, past Eve and  Adam's,  from swerve of  shore to  bend of bay,
brings  us  by a commodius vicus  of recirculation back to  Howth Castle and
Environs.
     Sir Tristram, violer  d'amores,  fr'over the short sea, had  passencore
rearrived from  North  Armorica  on this side the scraggy  isthmus of Europe
Minor to wielderfight his penisolate war:  nor had topsawyer's rocks  by the
stream Oconee exaggerated  themselse to  Laurens County's gorgios while they
went  doublin  their mumper all  the time: nor  avoice  from afire bellowsed
mishe mishe to tauftauf thuartpeatrick not yet, though  venissoon after, had
a  kidscad  buttended  a bland  old  isaac: not yet,  though  all's  fair in
vanessy, were sosie sesthers wroth with twone nathandjoe. Rot a peck of pa's
malt had  Jhem or Shen brewed by arclight and rory end to the regginbrow was
to be seen ringsome on the aquaface.
     The fall (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunnt-
rovarrhounawnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!) of  a once wallstrait oldparr  is
retaled  early  in  bed  and  later  on  life  down  through  all  christian
minstrelsy. The great fall of  the offwall entailed at such short notice the
pftjschute of Finnegan, erse  solid man, that the  humptyhillhead of humself
prumptly  sends  an  unquiring  one  well  to  the  west  in  quest  of  his
tumptytumtoes: and their upturnpikepointandplace is at the knock out  in the
park where oranges have been laid  to rust upon the green since devlinsfirst
loved livvy.
     What  clashes  here of wills gen wonts,  oystrygods  gaggin  fishygods!
Br�kkek  K�kkek  K�kkek K�kkek! K�ax  K�ax K�ax! Ualu  Ualu  Ualu! Quaouauh!
Where  the  Baddelaries  partisans  are  still  out  to  mathmaster Malachus
Micgranes   and  the  Verdons  catapelting  the  camibalistics  out  of  the
Whoyteboyce of  Hoodie Head. Assiegates and boomeringstroms. Sod's brood, be
me   fear!   Sanglorians,   save!   Arms  apeal   with   larms,   appalling.
Killykillkilly: a toll, a toll. What chance cuddleys, what cashels aired and
ventilated! What bidimetoloves sinduced by  what tegotetabsolvers! What true
feeling for their's  hayair with what strawng voice of  false jiccup! O here
here how  hoth sprowled met the duskt the  father of fornicationists but, (O
my shining stars  and  body!)  how  hath  fanespanned most high  heaven  the
skysign of soft advertisement! But was iz?  Iseut? Ere were sewers? The oaks
of ald now they lie in peat yet elms leap where askes  lay. Phall if you but
will, rise you must: and none so soon either  shall the pharce for the nunce
come to a setdown secular phoenish.
     Bygmester  Finnegan, of the Stuttering Hand, freemen's maurer, lived in
the broadest way immarginable in his rushlit toofarback for messuages before
joshuan judges had given us numbers or Helviticus committed deuteronomy (one
yeastyday  he sternely struxk his tete in  a tub for to watsch the future of
his fates but ere he swiftly stook it out again, by  the might of moses, the
very water was eviparated and all the guenneses had met their exodus so that
ought to show you what a pentschanjeuchy chap he was!) and during mighty odd
years  this man of hod, cement  and edifices in Toper's Thorp piled buildung
supra buildung pon the banks for the livers by the Soangso. He  addle liddle
phifie Annie ugged  the little craythur.  Wither hayre in honds tuck up your
part inher. Oftwhile balbulous,  mithre  ahead, with goodly trowel  in grasp
and  ivoroiled  overalls   which  he  habitacularly  fondseed,  like  Haroun
Childeric Eggeberth he  would caligulate by multiplicables the alltitude and
malltitude until  he seesaw by neatlight of the liquor wheretwin 'twas born,
his  roundhead  staple  of other days to  rise in undress maisonry upstanded
(joygrantit!), a waalworth of a skyerscape of most eyeful  hoyth  entowerly,
erigenating  from  next  to nothing  and celescalating the  himals  and all,
hierarchitectitiptitoploftical, with  a burning bush abob  off its baubletop
and with  larrons  o'toolers clittering up and tombles a'buckets  clottering
down.
     Of the  first  was he to  bare  arms and a name: Wassaily Booslaeugh of
Riesengeborg.  His crest of huroldry, in  vert  with  ancillars,  troublant,
argent, a hegoak, poursuivant,  horrid, horned. His  scutschum  fessed, with
archers strung, helio, of the second. Hootch is for husbandman  handling his
hoe.  Hohohoho, Mister Finn,  you're  going to be Mister Finnagain!  Comeday
morm and, O,  you're vine! Sendday's eve and, ah,  you're vinegar! Hahahaha,
Mister Funn, you're going to be fined again!
     What  then  agentlike  brought  about that  tragoady  thundersday  this
municipal sin  business? Our  cubehouse  still rocks  as  earwitness  to the
thunder of his arafatas but we hear also through successive ages that shebby
choruysh of  unkalified  muzzlenimiissilehims  that would blackguardise  the
whitestone ever hurtleturtled out of heaven. Stay us wherefore in our search
for tighteousness,  O Sustainer, what time  we rise  and when we  take up to
toothmick and before we lump down upown  our leatherbed and in the night and
at the fading of the stars ! For  a nod to the nabir is better  than wink to
the  wabsanti. Otherways  wesways  like that  provost scoffing  bedoueen the
jebel  and  the  jpysian sea. Cropherb the crunchbracken shall decide.  Then
we'll know if the feast is a flyday. She has a gift of seek on site  and she
allcasually ansars helpers, the dreamydeary. Heed! Heed ! It may half been a
missfired brick, as  some say, or it mought have been due to a  collupsus of
his back promises, as others looked at it. (There extand by now one thousand
and one stories, all  told, of the  same).  But so  sore did  abe ite ivvy's
holired  abbles, (what with the wallhall's horrors of rollsrights, carhacks,
stonengens,     kisstvanes,    tramtrees,    fargobawlers,     autokinotons,
hippohobbilies,   streetfleets,  tournintaxes,  megaphoggs,   circuses   and
wardsmoats and  basilikerks and aeropagods and the hoyse and  the jollybrool
and the peeler in the coat and the mecklenburk bitch bite at his ear and the
merlinburrow  burrocks and his fore old  porecourts,  the bore the more, and
his  blightblack  workingstacks at  twelvepins a dozen and  the  noobibusses
sleighding along Safetyfirst  Street and the derryjellybies  snooping around
Tell-No-Tailors' Corner and  the fumes and the hopes and the  strupithump of
his ville's indigenous romekeepers, homesweepers,  domecreepers, thurum  and
thurum in fancymud murumd  and all the uproor from all the  aufroofs, a roof
for may and a  reef for hugh butt under his bridge  suits  tony) wan warning
Phill  filt tippling  full. His  howd feeled heavy, his  hoddit  did  shake.
(There was a wall of course in erection) Dimb! He stottered from the latter.
Damb! he  was  dud. Dumb! Mastabatoom, mastabadtomm,  when a mon merries his
lute is all long. For whole the world to see.
     Shize?  I  should shee! Macool, Macool, orra  whyi deed  ye diie? of  a
trying thirstay mournin? Sobs they sighdid at Fillagain's chrissormiss wake,
all the hoolivans of the nation, prostrated in their consternation and their
duodisimally  profusive plethora of ululation.  There  was plumbs and grumes
and cheriffs and  citherers and raiders and cinemen too. And  the all gianed
in with  the  shoutmost  shoviality.  Agog and magog and the  round of  them
agrog.  To  the  continuation  of  that  celebration  until  Hanandhunigan's
extermination! Some in  kinkin  corass, more, kankan keening. Belling him up
and filling him down. He's  stiff but he's  steady  is Priam Olim ! 'Twas he
was the dacent gaylabouring youth. Sharpen his pillowscone, tap up his bier!
E'erawhere in this whorl would ye hear sich a din again? With their deepbrow
fundigs and the dusty fidelios. They laid him brawdawn alanglast bed. With a
bockalips  of  finisky fore his feet. And a  barrowload of guenesis hoer his
head. Tee the tootal of the fluid hang the twoddle of the fuddled, O !
     Hurrah, there is but young gleve for the owl globe wheels in view which
is tautaulogically  the same thing. Well,  Him a being so on the flounder of
his bulk like an overgrown  babeling, let wee peep,  see, at  Hom, well, see
peegee ought he  ought, platterplate. Hum  ! From  Shopalist to Bailywick or
from ashtun to baronoath  or from Buythebanks to  Roundthehead  or from  the
foot of the bill to ireglint's eye he calmly extensolies. And all the way (a
horn!) from fiord  to fjell his baywinds'  oboboes shall wail him  rockbound
(hoahoahoah!)  in  swimswamswum  and  all the livvylong night, the  delldale
dalppling  night,  the night  of  bluerybells,  her  flittaflute  in  tricky
trochees (O carina! O carina!) wake him. With her  issavan  essavans and her
patterjackmartins  about all them  inns and ouses. Tilling a  teel of a tum,
telling a toll of a teary turty Taubling. Grace  before Glutton. For what we
are, gifs a gross if we are, about to believe. So pool the begg and pass the
kish  for  crawsake.  Omen. So sigh us. Grampupus  is fallen down but grinny
sprids the boord. Whase on the joint of a desh? Finfoefom the Fush. Whase be
his  baken head? A loaf  of Singpantry's Kennedy bread. And whase hitched to
the hop  in his tayle? A  glass of  Danu U'Dunnell's foamous  olde  Dobbelin
ayle.  But, lo, as you would quaffoff his fraudstuff and sink  teeth through
that pyth of  a  flowerwhite  bodey  behold  of  him  as behemoth for  he is
noewhemoe. Finiche!  Only a fadograph  of a  yestern  scene. Almost rubicund
Salmosalar,  ancient fromout the ages  of the Agapemonides, he is smolten in
our  mist, woebecanned and packt  away. So that  meal's dead off for summan,
schlook, schlice and goodridhirring.
     Yet  may we not see still  the brontoichthyan form outlined aslumbered,
even in our own nighttime by the sedge of the  troutling stream that  Bronto
loved  and Brunto has a lean on. Hic cubat edilis. Apud libertinam parvulam.
Whatif she be in flags or flitters, reekierags or sundyechosies, with a mint
of mines or beggar a
     pinnyweight. Arrah, sure, we all love little Anny Ruiny, or, we mean to
say, lovelittle Anna  Rayiny, when unda her  brella, mid piddle med  puddle,
she  ninnygoes  nannygoes  nancing by. Yoh! Brontolone slaaps, yoh  snoores.
Upon Benn Heather, in Seeple Isout too.  The  cranic  head on him, caster of
his reasons, peer  yuthner in yondmist. Whooth?  His clay  feet, swarded  in
verdigrass, stick up  starck where  he last fellonem,  by the  mund  of  the
magazine wall, where our maggy seen all, with her sisterin shawl. While over
against this belles' alliance beyind  Ill Sixty, ollollowed ill! bagsides of
the  fort,  bom,  tarabom,  tarabom,  lurk  the  ombushes,  the site of  the
lyffing-in-wait  of the upjock and hockums. Hence  when  the clouds roll by,
jamey, a proudseye view is enjoyable of our mounding's mass, now Wallinstone
national museum, with, in some greenish  distance,  the  charmful waterloose
country and the  two quitewhite  villagettes  who hear show of themselves so
gigglesomes  minxt the follyages, the  prettilees! Penetrators are permitted
into  the  museomound  free.  Welsh  and  the Paddy  Patkinses, one shelenk!
Redismembers invalids of old guard find poussepousse pousseypram to sate the
sort of  their butt. For her  passkey supply to  the janitrix,  the mistress
Kathe. Tip.
     This the way  to the museyroom. Mind  your hats goan in! Now yiz are in
the Willingdone Museyroom.  This is a Prooshious gunn.  This is  a  ffrinch.
Tip. This  is the flag of the Prooshious, the  Cap and Soracer.  This is the
bullet  that byng the flag of the Prooshious. This is the  ffrinch that fire
on the Bull that bang the flag of the Prooshious. Saloos the  Crossgunn!  Up
with your pike and fork!  Tip. (Bullsfoot! Fine!) This is the triplewon  hat
of Lipoleum. Tip.  Lipoleumhat. This is  the Willingdone on  his same  white
harse,  the  Cokenhape.  This is  the  big Sraughter Willingdone, grand  and
magentic  in  his goldtin spurs and  his  ironed  dux  and his  quarterbrass
woodyshoes and  his magnate's gharters  and his bangkok's best  and goliar's
goloshes  and  his pulluponeasyan wartrews. This is his big wide harse. Tip.
This is the three lipoleum boyne grouching down in the living detch. This is
an inimyskilling inglis, this is a  scotcher grey, this is a davy, stooping.
This  is  the  bog  lipoleum  mordering  the  lipoleum  beg.  A  Gallawghurs
argaumunt. This  is the  petty  lipoleum boy that was nayther bag  nor  bug.
Assaye, assaye! Touchole Fitz Tuomush. Dirty MacDyke. And Hairy O'Hurry. All
of them arminus-varminus.  This  is Delian alps. This is Mont Tivel, this is
Mont Tipsey, this is the Grand Mons Injun.  This  is  the crimealine of  the
alps  hooping to  sheltershock the three lipoleums. This is the jinnies with
their legahorns feinting to read  in their handmade's book of stralegy while
making their war undisides the  Willingdone. The jinnies is a cooin her hand
and  the jinnies is a ravin her  hair and  the Willingdone  git the band up.
This  is big Willingdone mormorial tallowscoop Wounderworker obscides on the
flanks of  the  jinnies.  Sexcaliber  hrosspower.  Tip.  This  is me Belchum
sneaking  his  phillippy out of his most Awful  Grimmest Sunshat  Cromwelly.
Looted.  This  is  the  jinnies'  hastings  dispatch  for  to  irrigate  the
Willingdone. Dispatch in thin red lines cross  the shortfront of me Belchum.
Yaw,  yaw,  yaw! Leaper  Orthor. Fear  siecken!  Fieldgaze  thy  tiny  frow.
Hugacting.  Nap. That was the tictacs  of the  jinnies  for to fontannoy the
Willingdone. Shee, shee, shee!  The jinnies is  jillous agincourting all the
lipoleums.  And  the   lipoleums  is  gonn   boycottoncrezy  onto  the   one
Willingdone.  And  the Willingdone  git the band up. This  is bode  Belchum,
bonnet to  busby, breaking  his secred word with a  ball  up  his ear to the
Willingdone.  This   is  the  Willingdone's  hurold  dispitchback.  Dispitch
desployed on  the  regions  rare of me  Belchum. Salamangra! Ayi,  ayi, ayi!
Cherry jinnies. Figtreeyou!  Damn fairy ann, Voutre. Willingdone.  That  was
the  first joke  of  Willingdone, tic for tac. Hee,  hee,  hee!  This is  me
Belchum  in his  twelvemile cowchooks, weet,  tweet and stampforth foremost,
footing the camp for the jinnies. Drink a sip, drankasup, for he's as sooner
buy a guinness than he'd stale store stout. This is Rooshious balls. This is
a ttrinch. This  is  mistletropes. This is Canon Futter  with the  popynose.
After  his hundred days' indulgence. This  is  the blessed. Tarra's widdars!
This is jinnies in  the bonny bawn blooches. This is lipoleums in  the rowdy
howses.  This  is the  Willingdone, by  the splinters  of Cork,  order fire.
Tonnerre!  (Bullsear! Play!)  This is camelry, this is floodens, this is the
solphereens  in  action,  this  is   their  mobbily,  this  is  panickburns.
Almeidagad! Arthiz too loose! This is  Willingdone cry. Brum! Brum! Cumbrum!
This  is jinnies  cry.  Underwetter! Goat strip Finnlambs!  This  is jinnies
rinning away to their ousterlists dowan a bunkersheels. With a nip nippy nip
and a trip  trippy trip so airy. For their heart's right there. Tip. This is
me Belchum's  tinkyou tankyou silvoor plate  for citchin  the crapes in  the
cool of his  canister. Poor  the pay! This is the bissmark of  the  marathon
merry of the jinnies they left behind them. This is the Willingdone branlish
his same marmorial tallowscoop SophyKey-Po for his royal  divorsion  on  the
rinnaway  jinnies. Gambariste  della porca! Dalaveras fimmieras! This is the
pettiest of the lipoleums, Toffeethief, that spy on the Willingdone from his
big  white  harse,  the Capeinhope.  Stonewall  Willingdone is  an  old maxy
montrumeny.  Lipoleums  is  nice  hung  bushellors. This is  hiena  hinnessy
laughing  alout at the Willingdone.  This is lipsyg dooley krieging the funk
from  the hinnessy. This is the hinndoo Shimar  Shin between the  dooley boy
and the hinnessy. Tip. This is the wixy  old Willingdone picket  up the half
of the  threefoiled hat of lipoleums fromoud of  the  bluddle filth. This is
the hinndoo waxing ranjymad for a bombshoob. This is the Willingdone hanking
the half of  the  hat of lipoleums up  the  tail on the buckside of  his big
white harse. Tip. That was the last joke of Willingdone. Hit, hit, hit! This
is  the same  white  harse  of the  Willingdone,  Culpenhelp,  waggling  his
tailoscrupp with the  half  of a hat of  lipoleums to insoult on the hinndoo
seeboy.  Hney,  hney,   hney!   (Bullsrag!   Foul!)  This  is  the   seeboy,
madrashattaras, upjump and pumpim, cry to the Willingdone: Ap Pukkaru! Pukka
Yurap! This is the Willingdone, bornstable ghentleman, tinders  his maxbotch
to the cursigan Shimar Shin. Basucker youstead! This is the dooforhim seeboy
blow  the  whole of the half of the hat of lipoleums  off of the top of  the
tail on the back of his big wide harse. Tip (Bullseye! Game!) How Copenhagen
ended. This way the museyroom. Mind your boots goan out.
     Phew!
     What a warm time we were in there but how keling is here the airabouts!
We  nowhere  she  lives  but  you  mussna  tell  annaone  for  the  lamp  of
Jig-a-Lanthern! It's  a candlelittle  houthse  of  a month and  one windies.
Downadown,  High  Downadown. And nummered quaintlymine. And such  reasonable
weather too  ! The  wagrant wind's  awalt'zaround the piltdowns and on every
blasted knollyrock  (if you  can  spot  fifty I spy four more)  there's that
gnarlybird  ygathering,  a runalittle, doalittle, preealittle,  pouralittle,
wipealittle,   kicksalittle,severalittle,eatalittle,whinealittle,kenalittle,
helfalittle,pelfalittle  gnarlybird.  A  verytableland  of  bleakbardfields!
Under his seven wrothschields lies one, Lumproar. His  glav toside him. Skud
ontorsed. Our  pigeons  pair  are  flewn for northcliffs. The three of crows
have flapped it southenly, kraaking of de baccle to the kvarters of that sky
whence triboos answer; Wail, 'tis well!  She niver comes  out when Thon's on
shower  or when  Thon's flash  with  his Nixy  girls or when Thon's  blowing
toomcracks down the gaels of Thon. No nubo no! Neblas on you liv!  Her would
be too moochy afreet. Of Burymeleg and Bindmerollingeyes and all the deed in
the woe. Fe fo fom! She jist does hopes till byes will be byes. Here, and it
goes on  to appear now, she  comes, a  peacefugle,  a parody's  bird, a peri
potmother, a  pringlpik in  the  ilandiskippy,  with peewee  and  powwows in
beggybaggy  on  her  bickybacky  and   a  flick   flask  fleckflinging   its
pixylighting pacts' huemeramybows,  picking here, pecking  there, pussypussy
plunderpussy.  But  it's the armitides toonigh, militopucos, and toomourn we
wish  for a  muddy kissmans to the minutia  workers  and  there's  to  be  a
gorgeups truce  for  happinest childher everwere. Come nebo me and suso sing
the day we sallybright. She's burrowed the coacher's headlight the better to
pry (who goes  cute  goes siocur and shoos aroun) and all  spoiled  goods go
into her nabsack: curtrages  and rattlin buttins, nappy spattees  and flasks
of all nations,  clavicures  and scampulars,  maps,  keys  and woodpiles  of
haypennies  and  moonled  brooches with bloodstaned  breeks  in em,  boaston
nightgarters and masses of shoesets and nickelly nacks and foder  allmicheal
and a lugly parson of cates  and  howitzer muchears and midgers and maggets,
ills  and ells  with loffs of toffs and pleures of bells  and the  last sigh
that come fro  the hart  (bucklied!) and the fairest sin the  sunsaw (that's
cearc!). With Kiss. Kiss  Criss.  Cross Criss. Kiss Cross.  Undo lives 'end.
Slain.
     How bootifull and how truetowife of  her,  when strengly forebidden, to
steal our historic presents from  the past  postpropheticals  so as to  will
make us all lordy heirs and ladymaidesses of a pretty nice kettle of  fruit.
She is livving in our  midst of debt  and laffing  through all plores for us
(her birth is uncontrollable),  with a  naperon for her mask and her sabboes
kickin arias (so sair! so  solly!) if yous ask me and I saack you. Hou! Hou!
Gricks  may rise  and  Troysirs  fall  (there being  two sights for  ever  a
picture) for in  the byways of high improvidence that's what  makes lifework
leaving and the world's a  cell for citters to cit in. Let young wimman  run
away  with the story  and let young min  talk  smooth  behind the butteler's
back. She knows her knight's duty while Luntum sleeps.  Did ye save any tin?
says he.  Did  I what? with  a grin says she. And we all like  a  marriedann
because  she  is  mercenary.  Though  the  length  of  the  land lies  under
liquidation (floote!) and there's nare a  hairbrow nor an  eyebush  on  this
glaubrous phace of Herrschuft Whatarwelter she'll loan a vesta and hire some
peat and sarch the shores  her cockles to heat and she'll do all a turfwoman
can to piff the business  on. Paff. To puff the  blaziness on. Poffpoff. And
even  if  Humpty   shell  fall  frumpty  times  as  awkward  again  in   the
beardsboosoloom of  all our  grand remonstrancers there'll  be  iggs for the
brekkers come  to mournhim,  sunny  side up with  care. So  true is  it that
therewhere's a turnover the  tay is  wet  too and when you  think you  ketch
sight of a hind make sure but you're cocked by a hin.
     Then as she is on her  behaviourite job of quainance bandy, fruting for
firstlings and taking her tithe, we may take our review of the two mounds to
see  nothing of the himples here as  at elsewhere, by sixes and sevens, like
so many heegills and collines, sitton aroont, scentbreeched ant somepotreek,
in their swishawish  satins and  their  taffetaffe tights, playing Wharton's
Folly, at a  treepurty on  the planko  in the purk. Stand up,  mickos!  Make
strake for minnas ! By order, Nicholas Proud. We may see and hear nothing if
we choose  of the  shortlegged  bergins  off Corkhill or the  bergamoors  of
Arbourhill  or  the  bergagambols  of  Summerhill  or  the bergincellies  of
Miseryhill  or the  countrybossed bergones of Constitutionhill  though every
crowd has  its several  tones and every trade has its clever  mechanics  and
each harmonical has a point of its own, Olaf's on the rise and Ivor's on the
lift and Sitric's place's between  them. But all they are all there scraping
along  to sneeze out a likelihood that will solve and salve  life's robulous
rebus,  hopping round his middle like kippers on  a griddle,  O, as he  lays
dormont from the  macroborg of  Holdhard to the microbirg of Pied de Poudre.
Behove  this sound of  Irish sense.  Really?  Here English  might  be  seen.
Royally? One  sovereign punned to  petery pence. Regally? The silence speaks
the scene. Fake!
     So This Is Dyoublong?
     Hush! Caution ! Echoland !
     How  charmingly  exquisite!  It reminds you of the  outwashed engravure
that we used to be blurring  on the  blotchwall of his  innkempt house. Used
they? (I am sure that tiring chabelshoveller with  the mujikal chocolat box,
Miry  Mitchel,  is  listening) I say,  the  remains of the outworn gravemure
where used to be blurried the Ptollmens of the Incabus. Used we? (He is only
pretendant  to  be  stugging at  the  jubalee  harp  from  a second  existed
lishener, Fiery  Farrelly.) It is  well known. Lokk for himself and see  the
old butte new. Dbln. W. K. O. O. Hear? By the mausolime wall. Fimfim fimfim.
With  a grand funferall.  Fumfum fumfum.  'Tis  optophone  which ontophanes.
List! Wheatstone's magic lyer.  They will be tuggling  foriver. They will be
lichening for  allof. They  will be  pretumbling  forover. The harpsdischord
shall be theirs for ollaves.
     Four things therefore, saith our herodotary Mammon Lujius in  his grand
old historiorum, wrote near Boriorum, bluest book in baile's annals, f t. in
Dyffinarsky ne'er sall  fail til heathersmoke and  cloudweed Eire's ile sall
pall. And here now  they  are,the  fear of um. T. Totities! Unum.  (Adar.) A
bulbenboss surmounted  upon an alderman. Ay, ay! Duum.  (Nizam.) A shoe on a
puir old wobban. Ah, ho!  Triom. (Tamuz.) An auburn  mayde, o'brine a'bride,
to be desarted. Adear, adear! Quodlibus. (Marchessvan.) A  penn no weightier
nor a polepost. And so. And all. (Succoth.)
     So, how idlers' wind  turning pages on pages, as innocens with anaclete
play  popeye antipop, the leaves of  the  living in the boke  of the  deeds,
annals  of themselves timing the  cycles of events grand and national, bring
fassilwise to pass how.
     II32  A.D.  Men  like to  ants or emmets  wondern upon  a  groot  hwide
Whallfisk which lay in a Runnel. Blubby wares upat Ublanium.
     566  A.D.  On Baalfire's night of this year after  deluge a crone  that
hadde a wickered Kish for to hale dead tunes from the bog lookit  under  the
blay of her Kish as  she  ran for to  sothisfeige her cowrieosity and  be me
sawl but she found hersell sackvulle  of swart  goody quickenshoon ant small
illigant brogues, so rich in sweat. Blurry works at Hurdlesford.
     (Silent.)
     566 A.D. At this  time it  fell out  that a brazenlockt damsel  grieved
(sobralasolas!) because that Puppette her minion was ravisht-of  her  by the
ogre Puropeus Pious. Bloody wars in Ballyaughacleeaghbally.
     II32. A.D. Two sons at  an  hour were born until a goodman and his hag.
These sons called themselves Caddy  and Primas. Primas was  a santryman  and
drilled all decent  people.  Caddy went to  Winehouse  and wrote  o  peace a
farce. Blotty words for Dublin.
     Somewhere, parently,  in  the ginnandgo  gap between antediluvious  and
annadominant the copyist  must have fled with his  scroll. The  billy  flood
rose   or  an  elk   charged  him  or  the  sultrup  worldwright  from   the
excelsissimost  empyrean  (bolt,  in sum) earthspake or the Dannamen gallous
banged pan  the bliddy duran. A scribicide then and there  is led  off under
old's  code with some fine covered by six marks or ninepins  in metalmen for
the  sake of his labour's dross  while it will be  only now and again in our
rear  of  o'er era, as an upshoot of military and  civil engagements, that a
gynecure  was let on to  the scuffold for taking that same fine sum covertly
by meddlement with the drawers of his neighbour's safe.
     Now after all that  farfatch'd and peragrine or dingnant or clere  lift
we  our  ears, eyes of the  darkness,  from the  tome  of Liber Lividus and,
(toh!), how paisibly  eirenical, all dimmering dunes and gloamering  glades,
selfstretches  afore us our fredeland's  plain! Lean  neath  stone  pine the
pastor lies with his crook; young  pricket by pricket's  sister nibbleth  on
returned  viridities;  amaid her  rocking  grasses  the herb  trinity  shams
lowliness; skyup is  of  evergrey. Thus,  too, for donkey's years. Since the
bouts of  Hebear and Hairyman the cornflowers have been staying at Ballymun,
the  duskrose  has choosed out  Goatstown's  hedges,  twolips  have  pressed
togatherthem by sweet Rush, townland of twinedlights, the whitethorn and the
redthorn  have  fairygeyed the  mayvalleys of Knockmaroon,  and,  though for
rings round  them, during a chiliad  of  perihelygangs, the Formoreans  have
brittled the tooath of  the Danes and  the  Oxman  has been pestered  by the
Firebugs and  the Joynts  have thrown up jerrybuilding to the  Kevanses  and
Little  on  the  Green  is   childsfather  to  the  City  (Year!  Year!  And
laughtears!),  these  paxsealing  buttonholes  have  quadrilled  across  the
centuries and whiff  now whafft to us,  fresh and made-of-all-smiles as,  on
the eve of Killallwho.
     The babbelers  with their thangas vain have been (confusium hold them!)
they were  and went; thigging thugs  were and  houhnhymn  songtoms  were and
comely  norgels were and  pollyfool fiansees. Menn have thawed, clerks  have
surssurhummed, the blond  has sought of the brune: Elsekiss thou  may,  mean
Kerry piggy?: and the duncledames  have countered with the  hellish fellows:
Who  ails tongue coddeau,  aspace of dumbillsilly?  And they fell upong  one
another: and themselves they have fallen. And still nowanights and by nights
of yore do  all bold floras of  the field to  their shyfaun lovers say only:
Cull me ere I wilt to  thee!: and,  but a  little later:  Pluck me whilst  I
blush! Well may they  wilt, marry, and profusedly blush,  be troth! For that
saying  is  as  old as  the howitts. Lave a  whale a  while in a whillbarrow
(isn't it the truath  I'm tallin  ye?) to have fins and flippers that shimmy
and  shake.  Tim Timmycan  timped  hir,  tampting  Tam. Fleppety!  Flippety!
Fleapow!
     Hop!
     In the name of Anem this carl on the  kopje  in pelted thongs a parth a
lone  who the joebiggar be he? Forshapen his  pigmaid hoagshead, shroonk his
plodsfoot. He  hath locktoes, this  shortshins, and, Obeold that's pectoral,
his  mammamuscles most  mousterious.  It  is slaking  nuncheon  out of  some
thing's brain pan. Me seemeth a dragon man. He is almonthst on the kiep fief
by here, is Comestipple Sacksoun, be it junipery  or febrewery,  marracks or
alebrill or the ramping riots  of pouriose and froriose. What a quhare soort
of  a  mahan. It is  evident  the michindaddy.  Lets we  overstep  his  fire
defences  and  these  kraals  of  slitsucked  marrogbones.  (Cave!)  He  can
prapsposterus  the pillory way to Hirculos pillar. Come on, fool porterfull,
hosiered women blown monk sewer? Scuse us, chorley guy! You tollerday donsk?
N. You tolkatiff scowegian? Nn. You spigotty anglease? Nnn. You phonio saxo?
Nnnn. Clear  all so! 'Tis a Jute.  Let us swop hats and excheck a few strong
verbs weak oach eather yapyazzard abast the blooty creeks.
     Jute.-- Yutah!
     Mutt.-- Mukk's pleasurad.
     Jute.-- Are you jeff?
     Mutt.-- Somehards.
     Jute.-- But you are not jeffmute?
     Mutt.-- Noho. Only an utterer.
     Jute.-- Whoa? Whoat is the mutter with you?
     Mutt.-- I became a stun a stummer.
     Jute.-- What a hauhauhauhaudibble thing, to be cause! How,
     Mutt?
     Mutt.-- Aput the buttle, surd.
     Jute.-- Whose poddle? Wherein?
     Mutt.-- The Inns of Dungtarf where Used awe to be he.
     Jute.-- You that side your voise are almost inedible to me.
     Become a bitskin more wiseable, as if I were
     you.
     Mutt.-- Has? Has at? Hasatency? Urp, Boohooru! Booru
     Usurp! I trumple from rath in mine mines when I
     rimimirim !
     Jute.-- One eyegonblack. Bisons is bisons. Let me fore all
     your hasitancy cross your qualm with trink gilt. Here
     have sylvan coyne, a piece of oak. Ghinees hies good
     for you.
     Mutt.-- Louee, louee! How wooden I not know it, the intel
     lible greytcloak of Cedric Silkyshag! Cead mealy
     faulty rices for one dabblin bar. Old grilsy growlsy!
     He was poached on in that eggtentical spot. Here
     where the liveries, Monomark. There where the mis
     sers moony, Minnikin passe.
     Jute.-- Simply because as Taciturn pretells, our wrongstory
     shortener, he dumptied the wholeborrow of rubba
     ges on to soil here.
     Mutt.-- Just how a puddinstone inat the brookcells by a
     riverpool.
     Jute.-- Load Allmarshy! Wid wad for a norse like?
     Mutt.-- Somular with a bull on a clompturf. Rooks roarum
     rex roome! I could snore to him of the spumy horn,
     with his woolseley side in, by the neck I am sutton
     on, did Brian d' of Linn.
     Jute.-- Boildoyle and rawhoney on me when I can beuraly
     forsstand a weird from sturk to finnic in such a pat
     what as your rutterdamrotter. Onheard of and um
     scene! Gut aftermeal! See you doomed.
     Mutt.-- Quite agreem. Bussave a sec. Walk a dun blink
     roundward this albutisle and you skull see how olde
     ye plaine of my Elters, hunfree and ours, where wone
     to wail whimbrel to peewee o'er the saltings, where
     wilby citie by law of isthmon, where by a droit of
     signory, icefloe was from his Inn the Byggning to
     whose Finishthere Punct. Let erehim ruhmuhrmuhr.
     Mearmerge two races, swete and brack. Morthering
     rue. Hither, craching eastuards, they are in surgence:
     hence, cool at ebb, they requiesce. Countlessness of
     livestories have netherfallen by this plage, flick as
     flowflakes, litters from aloft, like a waast wizzard all of
     whirlworlds. Now are all tombed to the mound, isges
     to isges, erde from erde. Pride, O pride, thy prize!
     Jute.-- 'Stench!
     Mutt.-- Fiatfuit! Hereinunder lyethey. Llarge by the smal an'
     everynight life olso th'estrange, babylone the great
     grandhotelled with tit tit tittlehouse, alp on earwig,
     drukn on ild, likeas equal to anequal in this sound
     seemetery which iz leebez luv.
     Jute.-- 'Zmorde!
     Mutt.-- Meldundleize! By the fearse wave behoughted. Des
     pond's sung. And thanacestross mound have swollup
     them all. This ourth of years is not save brickdust
     and being humus the same roturns. He who runes
     may rede it on all fours. O'c'stle, n'wc'stle, tr'c'stle,
     crumbling! Sell me sooth the fare for Humblin! Hum
     blady Fair. But speak it allsosiftly, moulder! Be in
     your whisht!
     Jute.-- Whysht?
     Mutt.-- The gyant Forficules with Amni the fay.
     Jute.-- Howe?
     Mutt.-- Here is viceking's graab.
     Jute.-- Hwaad !
     Mutt.-- Ore you astoneaged, jute you?
     Jute.-- Oye am thonthorstrok, thing mud.
     (Stoop)  if you are abcedminded, to this claybook, what curios of signs
(please  stoop), in this allaphbed! Can you rede  (since We and Thou had  it
out already) its world? It is the same told of  all. Many. Miscegenations on
miscegenations.  Tieckle. They lived und laughed ant loved end left. Forsin.
Thy thingdome is given to the Meades and Porsons. The meandertale, aloss and
again, of  our  old  Heidenburgh in the days when Head-in-Clouds walked  the
earth. In the ignorance  that implies impression that  knits  knowledge that
finds the  nameform that whets the wits  that  convey contacts that  sweeten
sensation that drives desire that adheres to attachment that dogs death that
bitches birth that  entails the ensuance of existentiality. But  with a rush
out  of  his navel  reaching  the  reredos  of  Ramasbatham.  A  terricolous
vivelyonview this; queer and  it continues to be quaky. A hatch, a  celt, an
earshare the  pourquose  of  which  was to  cassay the earthcrust  at all of
hours, furrowards, bagawards, like yoxen at the turnpaht. Here say figurines
billycoose arming and mounting.  Mounting and arming bellicose figurines see
here. Futhorc, this liffle effingee is for a firefing called a flintforfall.
Face at the eased! O I fay! Face at the waist!  Ho, you  fie! Upwap and dump
em, Face to Face! When a  part so ptee does duty for the holos  we soon grow
to use of  an allforabit. Here  (please  to stoop)  are selveran cued peteet
peas of quite a pecuniar interest inaslittle  as they  are  the pellets that
make  the  tomtummy's pay roll. Right  rank ragnar rocks and with these  rox
orangotangos rangled rough and rightgorong. Wisha, wisha, whydidtha? Thik is
for thorn  that's thuck  in its thoil  like thumfool's  thraitor thrust  for
vengeance.  What a  mnice  old mness it all mnakes!  A  middenhide  hoard of
objects! Olives,  beets, kimmells,  dollies, alfrids, beatties, cormacks and
daltons. Owlets' eegs (O stoop to please!) are here,  creakish from  age and
all now quite epsilene,  and oldwolldy wobblewers, haudworth a wipe o grass.
Sss!  See  the snake  wurrums everyside! Our durlbin is sworming  in sneaks.
They came to our island from triangular  Toucheaterre beyond the wet prairie
rared  up in the  midst of  the cargon  of  prohibitive pomefructs but along
landed Paddy Wippingham and the  his garbagecans cotched the creeps of  them
pricker  than  our  whosethere  outofman  could  quick  up  her  whatsthats.
Somedivide  and  sumthelot but  the  tally  turns  round the same balifuson.
Racketeers and bottloggers.
     Axe  on  thwacks  on  thracks, axenwise. One by  one place one be three
dittoh and one before. Two nursus one make a plausible free and idim behind.
Starting  off with a big  boaboa  and  threelegged  calvers  and  ivargraine
jadesses with a message in their mouths. And a hundreadfilled unleavenweight
of  liberorumqueue  to  con  an   we  can  till   allhorrors   eve.  What  a
meanderthalltale  to unfurl  and  with  what an end  in view of squattor and
anntisquattor and  postproneauntisquattor! To say  too  us to be every  tim,
nick  and  larry  of  us,  sons  of  the  sod,  sons,  littlesons,  yea  and
lealittlesons,  when  usses  not  to  be,  every sue, siss and  sally of us,
dugters of Nan! Accusative ahnsire! Damadam to infinities
     True  there  was in nillohs  dieybos as yet no lumpend  papeer  in  the
waste,and  mightmountain Penn still groaned for the micies  to let flee. All
was of  ancientry. You gave me a boot  (signs on it!) and I  ate the wind. I
quizzed you a quid (with for what?) and you went to the quod. But the world,
mind,  is,  was and  will  be  writing its own wrunes for ever, man, on  all
matters that  fall under  the ban of our  infrarational senses fore the last
milchcamel, the heartvein throbbing between his eyebrowns, has still to moor
before  the  tomb of his cousin  charmian where his date  is tethered by the
palm that's hers. But the horn, the drinking, the day of dread  are not now.
A  bone,  a  pebble, a ramskin; chip them, chap them,  cut  them up allways;
leave  them  to  terracook in  the  muttheringpot:  and  Gutenmorg  with his
cromagnom charter, tintingfast and great primer must once  for omniboss step
rubrickredd out of the wordpress else is there no virtue more  in alcohoran.
For  that (the rapt one warns) is what papyr is meed  of, made of, hides and
hints and misses  in  prints. Till  ye finally (though not yet endlike) meet
with  the acquaintance of Mister Typus,  Mistress Tope  and all  the  little
typtopies.  Fillstup.  So you need hardly  spell me  how every word  will be
bound over to carry three score and ten toptypsical readings throughout  the
book of  Doublends  Jined (may his forehead  be darkened with  mud who would
sunder!) till Daleth, mahomahouma, who oped it closeth thereof the. Dor.
     Cry not yet! There's many a smile to Nondum, with sytty maids  per man,
sir,  and the park's so dark by kindlelight. But look what you have in  your
handself! The movibles are scrawling in  motions, marching, all of them ago,
in pitpat  and zingzang for every  busy eerie whig's a bit of a  torytale to
tell.  One's upon a thyme and two's  behind  their lettice leap and  three's
among the strubbely beds. And the chicks picked their teeths and the dombkey
he begay began. You can ask your ass if he believes it. And so cuddy me only
wallops have heels. That one  of a wife with folty barnets. For then was the
age when hoops  ran high. Of a noarch and  a chopwife; of a pomme full grave
and a fammy of levity; or of golden  youths that wanted gelding; or of  what
the  mischievmiss  made a  man do.  Malmarriedad he was reversogassed by the
frisque of her frasques  and her prytty pyrrhique. Maye  faye, she's la gaye
this  snaky woman! From that trippiery toe expectungpelick! Veil, volantine,
valentine  eyes.  She's the very  besch Winnie  blows Nay on good. Flou inn,
flow  ann. Hohore!  So it's sure it  was her not we! But lay it easy, gentle
mien, we are in rearing of a  norewhig. So  weenybeenyveenyteeny. Comsy see!
Het wis if ee newt. Lissom! lissom! I am doing it. Hark, the corne entreats!
And the larpnotes prittle.
     It was of  a night, late, lang  time  agone, in an  auldstane eld, when
Adam was delvin and his madameen spinning watersilts,  when mulk mountynotty
man was everybully and  the first leal ribberrobber that ever had her ainway
everybuddy to his lovesaking eyes and everybilly lived alove with everybiddy
else,  and  Jarl  van Hoother had  his burnt head high up in his  lamphouse,
laying cold hands on himself. And his two little jiminies, cousins of  ourn,
Tristopher  and Hilary, were kickaheeling their dummy on the oil cloth flure
of  his homerigh, castle  and  earthenhouse. And, be dermot, who come to the
keep of his  inn  only  the  nieceof-his-in-law,  the  prankquean.  And  the
prankquean pulled a rosy one and made  her  wit  foreninst the dour. And she
lit up and  fireland was  ablaze.  And spoke  she  to  the dour in her petty
perusienne: Mark the Wans, why do I am alook  alike  a poss  of porterpease?
And that was how  the skirtmisshes began. But the dour  handworded her grace
in  dootch  nossow:  Shut! So her grace  o'malice kidsnapped  up  the jiminy
Tristopher and into the shandy westerness she rain, rain, rain. And Jarl van
Hoother warlessed after her with soft dovesgall: Stop deef stop come back to
my earin  stop.  But  she  swaradid  to  him: Unlikelihud.  And  there was a
brannewail that same sabboath night of falling angles somewhere in Erio. And
the prankquean went  for her forty years' walk in Tourlemonde and she washed
the blessings of the lovespots off the jiminy with soap sulliver suddles and
she  had  her four owlers  masters  for  to tauch  him  his  tickles and she
convorted him to the onesure  allgood  and he became a luderman. So then she
started to rain  and to rain and, be redtom, she was back again at Jarl  van
Hoother's  in a brace of  samers and the jiminy with her  in  her pinafrond,
lace at night, at another time. And where did she come but to the bar of his
bristolry. And Jarl von Hoother  had his baretholobruised heels  drowned  in
his cellarmalt, shaking warm hands with  himself and the jimminy  Hilary and
the dummy in their  first infancy  were below on the tearsheet, wringing and
coughing, like brodar and histher. And the prankquean nipped a paly  one and
lit  up again and redcocks flew flackering from  the hillcombs. And she made
her witter before the wicked, saying: Mark the Twy, why do I  am alook alike
two  poss  of  porterpease?  And:  Shut!  says the  wicked,  handwording her
madesty. So  her madesty  'a forethought'  set down  a jiminy and took up  a
jiminy and all  the lilipath ways to Woeman's Land she rain, rain, rain. And
Jarl von Hoother bleethered atter her with a loud  finegale:  Stop domb stop
come  back with my  earring stop. But the prankquean swaradid: Am liking it.
And there  was a wild old  grannewwail that  laurency night of starshootings
somewhere  in Erio. And the prankquean  went for  her  forty years' walk  in
Turnlemeem and she punched the curses of cromcruwell with the nail of  a top
into the jiminy and  she had  her  four larksical monitrix to  touch him his
tears  and she provorted  him to the  onecertain  allsecure  and he became a
tristian. So then she started  raining, raining, and in a pair  of changers,
be dom ter, she was back again at Jarl von Hoother's and  the Larryhill with
her under her abromette. And why would she halt at all if not by the ward of
his mansionhome of another nice lace  for  the  third  charm? And  Jarl  von
Hoother had  his  hurricane  hips  up to  his  pantrybox,  ruminating in his
holdfour stomachs (Dare! O dare!), ant the jiminy Toughertrees and the dummy
were  belove  on  the  watercloth,  kissing  and spitting,  and  roguing and
poghuing, like knavepaltry and naivebride and  in  their second infancy. And
the prankquean picked a blank and lit out and the valleys lay twinkling. And
she made  her  wittest in  front of the arkway of trihump, asking: Mark  the
Tris, why do I  am alook alike  three poss of porter pease? But that was how
the skirtmishes endupped. For like  the campbells acoming with  a fork lance
of-lightning, Jarl von  Hoother  Boanerges  himself, the old terror  of  the
dames, came hip hop handihap out through  the pikeopened arkway of his three
shuttoned castles, in  his broadginger  hat  and his civic chollar  and  his
allabuff hemmed and his bullbraggin  soxangloves and his ladbroke breeks and
his cattegut bandolair and his furframed panuncular  cumbottes  like  a rudd
yellan gruebleen orangeman in his  violet indigonation, to  the whole longth
of the  strongth of his bowman's bill. And he clopped his  rude hand to  his
eacy hitch and he ordurd  and his thick spch spck for  her  to shut up shop,
dappy.      And      the      duppy      shot     the      shutter      clup
(Perkodhuskurunbarggruauyagokgorlayorgromgremmitghundhurthrumathunaradidillifaititillibumullunukkunun!)
And  they  all drank free. For one man in his armour was a  fat match always
for any girls  under shurts. And that  was  the first peace  of illiterative
porthery in all the flamend floody flatuous world. How kirssy the tiler made
a sweet unclose to the Narwhealian captol. Saw fore  shalt thou  sea. Betoun
ye and be. The prankquean was to hold her dummyship and the jimminies was to
keep  the  peacewave  and  van  Hoother  was to  git  the wind up. Thus  the
hearsomeness of the burger felicitates the whole of the polis.
     O  foenix  culprit!  Ex  nickylow  malo comes mickelmassed bonum. Hill,
rill, ones in company, billeted, less be proud of. Breast high and bestride!
Only for that  these will not breathe upon Norronesen or Irenean the secrest
of  their  soorcelossness.  Quarry  silex,  Homfrie  Noanswa!  Undy  gentian
festyknees,  Livia  Noanswa?  Wolkencap is  on  him, frowned; audiurient, he
would evesdrip,  were it mous at hand, were it  dinn of  bottles  in the far
ear. Murk,  his vales are  darkling. With  lipth she lithpeth to him all  to
time of  thuch  on  thuch and  thow  on thow. She he  she ho she ha  to  la.
Hairfluke, if he could bad twig her! Impalpabunt, he abhears. The soundwaves
are  his buffeteers; they trompe him with their trompes;  the wave of  roary
and  the  wave  of hooshed  and  the  wave  of hawhawhawrd and the  wave  of
neverheedthemhorseluggarsandlisteltomine.      Landloughed       by      his
neaghboormistress and perpetrified in  his offsprung, sabes and suckers, the
moaning pipers could tell him to his faceback, the louthly one whose loab we
are  devorers  of, how butt for his hold halibutt, or her to her pudor puff,
the lipalip one  whose libe we  drink at, how  biff for her  tiddywink  of a
windfall, our  breed and washer  givers, there would not be a holey spier on
the town nor a vestal flouting in the dock, nay to make plein avowels, nor a
yew  nor an eye to play cash cash  in Novo Nilbud by swamplight nor a' toole
o' tall o' toll and noddy hint to the convaynience.
     He dug in and  dug out by the  skill of  his tilth  for himself and all
belonging to him and he  sweated his crew beneath his auspice for the living
and he urned his  dread, that dragon  volant, and he made  louse for  us and
delivered   us   to    boll   weevils    amain,   that   mighty   liberator,
Unfru-Chikda-Uru-Wukru  and begad he did, our ancestor most worshipful, till
he thought  of a  better one in  his windower's house with that  blushmantle
upon  him from earsend to earsend. And would again  could whispring grassies
wake him and may again  when the fiery bird disembers. And will  again if so
be sooth  by elder to  his youngers  shall be said.  Have  you whines for my
wedding,  did  you bring bride and bedding, will you whoop for my deading is
a? Wake? Usgueadbaugham!
     Anam muck an dhoul ! Did ye drink me doornail?
     Now be  aisy, good Mr Finnimore,  sir. And take your laysure like a god
on pension  and don't be  walking abroad. Sure you'd only  lose yourself  in
Healiopolis now the way  your roads in Kapelavaster are  that  winding there
after the calvary, the North Umbrian  and the Fivs Barrow and Waddlings Raid
and  the  Bower Moore and wet your  feet maybe with the foggy dew's  abroad.
Meeting  some sick old  bankrupt or  the  Cottericks' donkey  with his  shoe
hanging, clankatachankata, or  a  slut snoring with  an  impure infant on  a
bench. 'Twould  turn you against life,  so 'twould.  And  the weather's that
mean too. To part  from Devlin  is hard as Nugent knew, to leave  the  clean
tanglesome one lushier than its neighbour enfranchisable fields but let your
ghost have no grievance. You're better off, sir, where you are,  primesigned
in the full of  your  dress,  bloodeagle waistcoat and all, remembering your
shapes and sizes on the  pillow of your babycurls under your sycamore by the
keld water  where the Tory's clay  will scare the varmints and have  all you
want, pouch, gloves, flask, bricket, kerchief, ring and amberulla, the whole
treasure of the pyre, in the land  of souls with Homin  and Broin Baroke and
pole  ole Lonan and  Nobucketnozzler and the Guinnghis  Khan.  And  we'll be
coming  here, the  ombre  players,  to  rake your  gravel  and bringing  you
presents, won't we, fenians? And il isn't our spittle we'll stint you of, is
it, druids? Not shabbty little imagettes, pennydirts and dodgemyeyes you buy
in the soottee stores. But offerings of the field. Mieliodories, that Doctor
Faherty,  the madison man, taught  to gooden you. Poppypap's a passport out.
And honey is the holiest thing ever was, hive, comb and earwax, the food for
glory, (mind you keep the pot or your nectar cup may yield too  light !) and
some  goat's milk,  sir,  like  the  maid used to  bring  you.  Your fame is
spreading like  Basilico's  ointment  since  the  Fintan  Lalors  piped  you
overborder  and  there's  whole  households beyond  the  Bothnians  and they
calling names after you. The menhere's always  talking of you sitting around
on the  pig's  cheeks under  the sacred rooftree, over  the bowls of  memory
where  every hollow holds a hallow,  with  a pledge till the drengs, in  the
Salmon House. And  admiring  to our  supershillelagh  where the palmsweat on
high  is the  mark  of  your manument. All the  toethpicks  ever Eirenesians
chewed  on are chips chepped  from that battery block. If you were bowed and
soild and letdown itself from the oner of the load it was that paddyplanters
might  pack up plenty and when you were undone in every point fore the  laps
of goddesses you showed our labourlasses how to free was  easy. The game old
Gunne, they do be saying, (skull  !) that was a planter for you, a spicer of
them all. Begog but he was, the G.O.G! He's duddandgunne now and we're apter
finding the  sores of his sedeq but peace to his  great limbs, the buddhoch,
with  the  last league long rest  of him,  while the  millioncandled  eye of
Tuskar sweeps the Moylean Main ! There was never a warlord in  Great Erinnes
and Brettland, no, nor in all Pike County like you, they say. No, nor a king
nor  an ardking,  bung  king, sung king or hung king. That you could fell an
elmstree twelve  urchins  couldn't ring round and hoist  high the stone that
Liam failed.  Who but  a Maccullaghmore  the  reise of  our fortunes and the
faunayman at the funeral to compass our cause? If you was hogglebully itself
and most frifty like you was taken waters still what all where was your like
to  lay the cable  or who was the batter  could better Your Grace?  Mick Mac
Magnus MacCawley can take you off  to  the  pure perfection and  Leatherbags
Reynolds tries your shuffle and cut. But as Hopkins and Hopkins puts it, you
were the  pale eggynaggy  and a kis to tilly up. We calls him the journeyall
Buggaloffs since he went Jerusalemfaring in  Arssia Manor. You had a  gamier
cock than Pete, Jake or Martin and your archgoose of  geese stubbled for All
Angels'  Day. So  may the priest of seven worms and scalding  tayboil,  Papa
Vestray, come never anear you as your  hair grows wheater  beside the Liffey
that's  in Heaven!  Hep,  hep,  hurrah there! Hero! Seven times  thereto  we
salute you! The  whole bag of kits, falconplumes and  jackboots incloted, is
where you  flung them that time. Your heart is in  the system of the Shewolf
and your crested head  is in the tropic of Copricapron. Your feet are in the
cloister of  Virgo. Your olala is in the region of sahuls. And that's ashore
as  you were  born.  Your shuck tick's swell.  And that there  texas is  tow
linen. The loamsome  roam to Laffayette is ended. Drop in your tracks, babe!
Be not unrested ! The headboddylwatcher of the chempel of Isid, Totumcalmum,
saith: I know thee, metherjar,  I  know thee,  salvation boat.  For  we have
performed  upon thee,  thou  abramanation,  who  comest  ever  without being
invoked, whose coming  is unknown, all the things which the company  of  the
precentors and of the grammarians of Christpatrick's ordered concerning thee
in the matter of the work of thy tombing. Howe of the shipmen, steep wall!
     Everything's going on  the same or  so it appeals to all of  us, in the
old holmsted  here. Coughings all over  the sanctuary, bad scrant to me aunt
Florenza. The horn  for breakfast, one o'gong for lunch  and dinnerchime. As
popular as when Belly the First  was keng and his members met in the Diet of
Man.  The  same  shop slop in  the window.  Jacob's  lettercrackers  and  Dr
Tipple's Vi-Cocoa and the Eswuards' desippated soup beside Mother  Seagull's
syrup. Meat took a drop  when Reilly-Parsons failed. Coal's  short but we've
plenty of bog in the  yard. And barley's up again, begrained to it. The lads
is attending school nessans regular, sir, spelling beesknees with hathatansy
and turning out tables by mudapplication. Allfor the books and never pegging
smashers after  Tom Bowe Glassarse or Timmy the Tosser. 'Tisraely the truth!
No  isn't  it,  roman  pathoricks?  You were  the doublejoynted janitor  the
morning  they were delivered  and you'll be a grandfer yet entirely when the
ritehand seizes what  the lovearm knows. Kevin's just a doat with his cherub
cheek, chalking oghres on walls, and his  little lamp and schoolbelt and bag
of knicks,  playing postman's knock  round the diggings and if the seep were
milk you  could  lieve his olde by his ide but, laus sake, the devil does be
in  that  knirps  of  a  Jerry sometimes,  the  tarandtan  plaidboy,  making
encostive  inkum out  of the last of his  lavings and writing a  blue streak
over his bourseday shirt. Hetty  Jane's  a child of  Mary. She'll be  coming
(for they're sure to choose her) in  her white  of gold with a tourch of ivy
to  rekindle  the flame on  Felix  Day. But Essie Shanahan has let down  her
skirts. You  remember  Essie in our Luna's  Convent?  They  called her Holly
Merry her  lips were so  ruddyberry and Pia  de Purebelle when the redminers
riots   was   on   about   her.   Were   I   a   clerk   designate  to   the
Williamswoodsmenufactors I'd poster those pouters on every jamb in the town.
She's making her rep at Lanner's twicenightly. With the  tabarine tamtammers
of the whirligigmagees.  Beats that cachucha flat. 'Twould dilate your heart
to go.
     Aisy now, you decent man, with your knees and lie quiet and repose your
honour's lordship! Hold him here, Ezekiel Irons, and may God strengthen you!
It's our warm spirits, boys, he's spooring. Dimitrius O'Flagonan,  cork that
cure for the Clancartys ! You swamped  enough since Portobello to float  the
Pomeroy.  Fetch neahere,  Pat Koy! And  fetch nouyou, Pam Yates! Be  nayther
angst of Wramawitch! Here's  lumbos. Where misties  swaddlum,  where misches
lodge none, where mystries pour kind on, O sleepy! So be yet!
     I've an  eye on  queer Behan  and  old  Kate  and the butter, trust me.
She'll do no jugglywuggly with her  war souvenir  postcards to help to build
me murial, tippers! I'll trip your traps! Assure a sure there! And we put on
your clock again,  sir, for you. Did or  didn't we, sharestutterers?  So you
won't be  up a stump  entirely.  Nor shed  your  remnants.  The sternwheel's
crawling  strong.  I  seen  your  missus in the  hall. Like the queenoveire.
Arrah,  it's  herself  that's fine,  too, don't be  talking! Shirksends? You
storyan Harry chap longa me  Harry chap  storyan  grass woman  plelthy  good
trout. Shakeshands. Dibble a hayfork's wrong with her only  her lex's salig.
Boald Tib does be yawning and smirking cat's hours on the Pollockses' woolly
round tabouretcushion watching  her  sewing  a dream together, the  tailor's
daughter,  stitch  to her  last.  Or while  waiting  for  winter to fire the
enchantement, decoying more nesters to fall down the flue. It's allavalonche
that blows nopussy food. If you only were there to explain the meaning, best
of men,  and  talk to her nice of guldenselver. The lips  would moisten once
again. As  when you drove with her to Findrinny  Fair. What with reins  here
and ribbons there all your hands were employed so she  never knew was she on
land or  at sea or swooped through the blue like Airwinger's  bride. She was
flirtsome then and she's fluttersome yet. She can second a song and adores a
scandal when the last post's gone by. Fond of a concertina and pairs passing
when  she's  had her forty  winks  for  supper  after kanekannan and  abbely
dimpling and is in her merlin chair assotted, reading  her Evening World. To
see is it smarts, full lengths or swaggers. News, news, all the news. Death,
a leopard, kills fellah in Fez. Angry  scenes at Stormount. Stilla Star with
her lucky in goingaways. Opportunity fair with the China floods  and we hear
these rosy  rumours. Ding Tams he  noise  about all  same Harry  chap. She's
seeking her way, a chickle a chuckle, in and  out of their serial story, Les
Loves  of  Selskar et  Pervenche, freely  adapted  to  The Novvergin's  Viv.
There'll be bluebells  blowing in salty sepulchres the night  she signs  her
final tear. Zee End. But that's a world of ways away. Till track  laws time.
No silver ash or switches for that one! While flattering candles flare. Anna
Stacey's how are you! Worther waist in the noblest, says Adams and Sons, the
wouldpay  actionneers.  Her hair's as brown as  ever it  was. And wivvy  and
wavy. Repose you now! Finn no more!
     For, be that samesake sibsubstitute  of a hooky salmon, there's already
a  big rody ram lad at  random  on the  premises of his haunt of the hungred
bordles, as it is  told me.  Shop Illicit, flourishing like a lordmajor or a
buaboabaybohm,  litting  flop a  deadlop  (aloose!)  to  lee but  lifting  a
bennbranch a yardalong (Ivoeh!) the breezy side (for showm!), the  height of
Brewster's chimpney and as broad below as Phineas Barnum; humphing his share
of the showthers is senken on  him he's such a grandfallar,  with  a  pocked
wife in pickle that's a flyfire and three lice nittle clinkers, two twilling
bugs and one midgit  pucelle. And  aither  he  cursed and recursed  and  was
everseen doing what your fourfootlers saw or he  was never done seeing  what
you coolpigeons  know, weep the  clouds aboon  for smiledown witnesses,  and
that'll do now about the fairyhees and  the frailyshees. Though  Eset fibble
it to the zephiroth and Artsa zoom it round her heavens for ever. Creator he
has  created  for  his  creatured ones  a  creation.  White  monothoid?  Red
theatrocrat? And all the pinkprophets cohalething? Very much so! But however
'twas  'tis  sure for one thing,  what sherif Toragh  voucherfors and Mapqiq
makes put out, that the man, Humme the Cheapner, Esc, overseen as we thought
him, yet a worthy of the naym, came at this timecoloured place where we live
in our paroqial fermament one tide on another, with a bumrush in a hull of a
wherry,  the twin  turbane dhow, The  Bey for  Dybbling, this  archipelago's
first visiting schooner, with a wicklowpattern waxenwench at her prow  for a
figurehead, the deadsea dugong  updipdripping from his depths,  and has been
repreaching  himself like a fishmummer these siktyten  years ever since, his
shebi  by his shide, adi  and aid,  growing  hoarish  under  his turban  and
changing cane  sugar into sethulose starch  (Tuttut's cess to him!) as  also
that, batin the bulkihood he bloats about when innebbiated, our old offender
was humile, commune  and ensectuous  from his  nature,  which  you may gauge
after the bynames was put under him, in  lashons of languages, (honnein suit
and praisers be!) and, totalisating  him, even hamissim of himashim that he,
sober  serious,  he  is  ee  and  no  counter  he  who  will  be  ultimendly
respunchable for the hubbub caused in Edenborough.

Chapter 2

     Now (to forebare for  ever solittle of Iris Trees  and Lili O'Rangans),
concerning the genesis of Harold or Humphrey Chimpden's occupational agnomen
(we  are back in  the presurnames prodromarith period,  of course just  when
enos chalked  halltraps)  and discarding once  for all those  theories  from
older sources  which would link him back with such pivotal ancestors as  the
Glues,  the  Gravys,  the  Northeasts,  the  Ankers and  the  Earwickers  of
Sidlesham in the Hundred of Manhood or proclaim him offsprout of vikings who
had founded  wapentake  and  seddled  hem  in  Herrick  or  Eric,  the  best
authenticated version, the Dumlat, read the  Reading of Hofed-ben-Edar,  has
it  that it was this  way. We are told how in the beginning it came  to pass
that  like  cabbaging Cincinnatus the grand old gardener was saving daylight
under his  redwoodtree one sultry  sabbath afternoon,  Hag Chivychas Eve, in
prefall paradise  peace  by  following  his plough for  rootles  in the rere
garden  of mobhouse,  ye  olde marine  hotel,when  royalty was announced  by
runner  to have  been pleased  to have halted itself on the  highroad  along
which a leisureloving dogfox had cast followed, also at walking  pace,  by a
lady pack  of cocker  spaniels.  Forgetful  of all  save his vassal's  plain
fealty to the  ethnarch Humphrey or Harold  stayed not to yoke or saddle but
stumbled out  hotface  as  he  was (his  sweatful  bandanna loose  from  his
pocketcoat) hasting to  the  forecourts  of his public in topee,  surcingle,
solascarf and plaid, plus fours, puttees and bulldog boots ruddled  cinnabar
with  flagrant marl, jingling  his turnpike keys and  bearing aloft amid the
fixed pikes of the hunting party a high perch atop of which a  flowerpot was
fixed earthside hoist with care. On  his majesty, who  was, or often feigned
to  be,  noticeably  longsighted from green youth and  had  been  meaning to
inquire what, in effect, had caused yon causeway to be thus potholed, asking
substitutionally to be put wise as to whether paternoster and silver doctors
were not now more fancied bait for lobstertrapping honest blunt Haromphreyld
answered in no uncertain tones very similarly with a fearless forehead: Naw,
yer  maggers, aw war jist a  cotchin on thon  bluggy earwuggers. Our  sailor
king, who  was draining a  gugglet of obvious adamale, gift both and gorban,
upon this, ceasing to swallow,  smiled  most  heartily  beneath  his  walrus
moustaches and indulging that none too genial humour which  William the Conk
on the  spindle  side  had inherited with  the hereditary whitelock and some
shortfingeredness  from  his  greataunt Sophy,  turned  towards  two of  his
retinue of gallowglasses, Michael, etheling lord of  Leix and Offaly and the
jubilee  mayor  of Drogheda, Elcock,  (the two scatterguns being  Michael M.
Manning, protosyndic  of Waterford and an Italian excellency  named Giubilei
according to  a  later version  cited by the  learned  scholarch Canavan  of
Canmakenoise),  in  either  case  a triptychal religious  family symbolising
puritas  of doctrina, business per  usuals and the  purchypatch  of  hamlock
where the paddish preties grow and remarked dilsydulsily: Holybones of Saint
Hubert how our red  brother of Pouringrainia would audibly fume  did he know
that  we  have for  surtrusty  bailiwick  a  turnpiker  who  is  by  turns a
pikebailer  no seldomer than an earwigger  For he kinned  Jom Pill with  his
court so  gray and his haunts in his house in the mourning. (One still hears
that pebble crusted laughta, japijap cheerycherrily, among the roadside tree
the lady Holmpatrick planted and still one feels the amossive silence of the
cladstone allegibelling:  Ive mies outs ide Bourn.) Comes  the question  are
these the facts of his nominigentilisation as recorded and accolated in both
or  either of the collateral andrewpaulmurphyc narratives.  Are those  their
fata  which  we read in sibylline between the fas and its  nefas? No dung on
the  road?And  shall Nohomiah be our  place like? Yea,  Mulachy our kingable
khan?  We shall perhaps not  so soon see. Pinck poncks  that  bail for seeks
alicence where cumsceptres with scentaurs stay. Bear in mind, son of Hokmah,
if so be you  have metheg in  your  midness,  this man is  mountain and unto
changeth doth one ascend. Heave we aside the fallacy, as punical as finikin,
that  it   was  not  the  king   kingself  but   his  inseparable   sisters,
uncontrollable nighttalkers, Skertsiraizde with  Donyahzade, who afterwards,
when the  robberers shot up the socialights,came  down  into  the  world  as
amusers and were staged  by Madame Sudlow  as Rosa and Lily Miskinguette  in
the  pantalime that  two pitts  paythronosed,  Miliodorus  and Galathee. The
great  fact emerges that  after that  historic date  all  holographs  so far
exhumed initialled by Haromphrey bear the sigla H.C.E. and while he was only
and  long  and  always good Dook  Umphrey for  the  hungerlean spalpeens  of
Lucalizod and Chimbers  to his cronies it was  equally certainly  a pleasant
turn of the populace  which gave him as sense of those normative letters the
nickname  Here  Comes Everybody.  An  imposing  everybody  he  always indeed
looked, constantly the same  as and equal to  himself and magnificently well
worthy  of any  and  all such universalisation,  every  time he  continually
surveyed, amid  vociferatings from in front of Accept these few nutties! and
Take off that white hat!,  relieved with Stop his Grog and Put It in the Log
and Loots in his (bassvoco) Boots, from good start to happy finish the truly
catholic assemblage  gathered  together in that king's treat  house of satin
alustrelike above floats and footlights from their assbawlveldts and oxgangs
unanimously  to clapplaud (the inspiration of his  lifetime  and the hits of
their careers) Mr Wallenstein Washington Semperkelly's immergreen tourers in
a  command performance by special request with the courteous  permission for
pious  purposes the homedromed and enliventh  performance of problem passion
play of the millentury, running strong since creation, A Royal Divorce, then
near  the approach towards the summit of its climax, with ambitious interval
band selections from The Bo' Girl and The  Lily on all horserie show command
nights  from  his  viceregal  booth  (his  bossaloner  is  ceilinged there a
cuckoospit  less eminent than  the  redritualhoods  of Maccabe  and  Cullen)
where, a  veritable Napoleon the Nth, our  worldstage's  practical jokepiece
and retired cecelticocommediant in his own wise,this folksforefather all  of
the time sat,having the entirety of his house about him, with the invariable
broadstretched kerchief cooling  his whole neck, nape and shoulderblades and
in  a wardrobe  panelled  tuxedo  completely thrown back  from a shirt  well
entitled  a  swallowall,  on  every  point  far  outstarching the  laundered
clawhammers  and  marbletopped  highboys  of   the  pit  stalls  and   early
amphitheatre. The piece was this: look at the lamps. The cast was  thus: see
under  the  clock.  Ladies circle:  cloaks  may  be left.  Pit,  prommer and
parterre, standing room only. Habituels conspicuously emergent.
     A baser  meaning  has been read into these characters the literal sense
of which decency can safely scarcely hint. It has been blurtingly bruited by
certain  wisecrackers (the  stinks of  Mohorat are in the nightplots of  the
morning), that he  suffered from a vile  disease. Athma,  unmanner them!  To
such a suggestion the one selfrespecting answer  is to affirm that there are
certain statements which ought not to be, and one should like  to hope to be
able to  add,  ought not to be allowed to be  made. Nor have his detractors,
who, an  imperfectly warmblooded race,  apparently  conceive  him as a great
white caterpillar capable of any and every enormity in the calendar recorded
to the discredit  of  the Juke  and Kellikek  families, mended their case by
insinuating  that, alternately,  he  lay at one  time  under  the  ludicrous
imputation of annoying Welsh fusiliers in the  people's park. Hay, hay, hay!
Hoq, hoq, hoq! Faun and Flora on the lea love that little old joq. To anyone
who knew and loved  the christlikeness of the  big cleanminded  giant H.  C.
Earwicker  throughout  his excellency  long  vicefreegal existence  the mere
suggestion of him as a  lustsleuth  nosing for trouble in a  boobytrap rings
particularly preposterous. Truth, beard on prophet, compels one to add  that
there  is said  to have been quondam (pfuit! pfuit!)  some case  of the kind
implicating, it is interdum believed, a quidam (if he did not exist it would
be  necessary  quoniam to  invent him) abhout  that time  stambuling haround
Dumbaling  in  leaky  sneakers  with  his  tarrk  record  who  has  remained
topantically anonymos but (let  us hue him Abdullah Gamellaxarksky) was,  it
is  stated, posted at Mallon's at  the  instance  of watch  warriors of  the
vigilance committee  and years afterwards, cries one even greater,  Ibid,  a
commender  of  the  frightful,  seemingly, unto such as were  sulhan  sated,
tropped head (pfiat! pfiat!) waiting his first of the  month froods turn for
thatt chopp  pah kabbakks alicubi on the old house for the chargehard, Roche
Haddocks off Hawkins Street. Lowe, you  blondy  liar, Gob scene  you  in the
narked place and she  what's edith ar home defileth these boyles! There's  a
cabful  of bash indeed  in the homeur of that meal. Slander, let it  lie its
flattest, has never been able to convict our  good and great and no ordinary
Southron  Earwicker, that homogenius  man,  as a pious author called him, of
any graver impropriety than  that, advanced by some woodwards or  regarders,
who  did  not  dare deny,  the shomers, that  they had, chin Ted,  chin Tam,
chinchin Taffyd, that day consumed their soul of the corn, of having behaved
with ongentilmensky  immodus opposite a pair  of dainty  maidservants in the
swoolth of the rushy hollow whither, or so the two gown and pinners pleaded,
dame nature  in all innocency had  spontaneously and about the same hour  of
the eventide sent  them both but whose published combinations of silkinlaine
testimonies are,  where not dubiously pure, visibly divergent, as wapt  from
wept, on minor  points touchwhich was admittedly an  incautious but, at  its
wildest, a  partial exing  the intimate nature of this, a  first  offence in
vert or venison posure with such  attenuating circumstances (garthen gaddeth
green hwere sokeman brideth  girling) as  an abnormal Saint Swithin's summer
and, (Jesses Rosasharon!) a ripe occasion to provoke it.
     We can't do  without  them. Wives, rush  to  the restyours! Ofman  will
toman  while led  is the lol. Zessid's  our  kadem, villapleach, vollapluck.
Fikup,  for flesh nelly,  el mundo nov, zole flen !  If she's a lilyth, pull
early! Pauline, allow! And malers abushed, keep black, keep black! Guiltless
of much  laid to  him he was  clearly for once at least he clearly expressed
himself as being with still a trace of his  erstwhile burr sod hence it  has
been received  of us that it is  true.  They  tell the story (an  amalgam as
absorbing as calzium chloereydes and  hydrophobe sponges could make it)  how
one happygogusty Ides-of-April morning (the anniversary, as  it fell  out,of
his first assumption of his mirthday suit and rights  in appurtenance to the
confusioning  of human  races) ages and  ages after the alleged misdemeanour
when the tried friend of all creation, tigerwood roadstaff to  his stay, was
billowing across the  wide expanse of  our  greatest park in his  caoutchouc
kepi and great belt and hideinsacks  and  his blaufunx fustian and ironsides
jackboots  and Bhagafat gaiters and his  rubberised inverness, he met a  cad
with  a pipe.  The latter, the luciferant  not the oriuolate  (who, the odds
are, is still berting dagabout in the same straw bamer, carryin his overgoat
under his schulder,  sheepside  out,  so  as  to  look  more  like a coumfry
gentleman and signing the pledge  as gaily  as you  please) hardily accosted
him  with:  Guinness  thaw  tool  in  jew  me  dinner  ouzel  fin?  (a  nice
how-do-you-do in Poolblack  at the time as some of  our olddaisers may still
tremblingly recall)  to ask could  he tell him how much a clock  it was that
the  clock struck had he  any  idea  by cock's luck as his watch was bradys.
Hesitency  was  clearly  to  be  evitated.  Execration  as  cleverly  to  be
honnisoid. The Earwicker of that spurring  instant, realising on fundamental
liberal principles the supreme  importance, nexally and noxally, of physical
life (the nearest help relay  being pingping  K. O. Sempatrick's Day and the
fenian rising) and unwishful as he felt of being hurled into eternity  right
then, plugged by a softnosed bullet from the sap, halted, quick on the draw,
and  replyin that he was feelin tipstaff,  cue, prodooced from his gunpocket
his Jurgensen's shrapnel waterbury, ours by communionism, his by usucapture,
but, on the same stroke, hearing above the skirling of harsh Mother East old
Fox Goodman, the bellmaster, over the wastes to  south, at work upon the ten
ton tonuant  thunderous tenor toller  in  the  speckled  church (Couhounin's
call!) told the inquiring  kidder, by  Jehova,  it was twelve of em sidereal
and tankard time, adding, buttall, as he bended deeply with smoked sardinish
breath  to  give  more  pondus to the copperstick  he presented (though this
seems in some cumfusium  with the chapstuck ginger which, as being of sours,
acids, salts, sweets and bitters compompounded, we know him to have used  as
chawchaw  for bone, muscle,  blood, flesh  and  vimvital,)  that whereas the
hakusay accusation againstm had been made,  what was known in  high quarters
as was stood stated in Morganspost,  by  a creature  in youman  form who was
quite beneath parr and several degrees lower than  yore  triplehydrad snake.
In greater support of his word (it, quaint 'anticipation of a famous phrase,
has been reconstricted out of oral  style into the verbal for  all time with
ritual  rhythmics,  in   quiritary   quietude,  and   toosammenstucked  from
successive accounts  by Noah Webster in the redaction  known as  the Sayings
Attributive of H.  C. Earwicker, prize on  schillings, postlots  free),  the
flaxen Gygas tapped his chronometrum drumdrum and, now standing full  erect,
above the  ambijacent  floodplain, scene of its happening,  with  one Berlin
gauntlet chopstuck in the hough of his  ellboge  (by ancientest signlore his
gesture meaning: ~!)  pointed at an  angle  of thirtytwo degrees towards his
duc  de Fer's  overgrown  milestone  as  fellow  to his  gage  and  after  a
rendypresent  pause  averred   with  solemn  emotion's  fire:  Shsh   shake,
co-comeraid!  Me only,  them  five  ones,  he is  equal  combat. I have  won
straight. Hence my nonation wide hotel and creamery establishments which for
the honours of our mewmew  mutual  daughters, credit me, I am woowoo willing
to take my stand, sir, upon the monument, that sign of our  ruru redemption,
any hygienic day to this hour and to make  my hoath to my sinnfinners,  even
if I get life for it, upon the Open Bible and before the Great  Taskmaster's
(I lift my  hat!)  and in the presence of the Deity Itself andwell of Bishop
and Mrs Michan of High Church of England as of all such of said my immediate
withdwellers and of every living sohole in every corner wheresoever  of this
globe in  general  which  useth of my British  to  my  backbone  tongue  and
commutative justice that there is not one tittle of truth, allow me  to tell
you, in that purest of fibfib fabrications.
     Gaping Gill,  swift to  mate errthors, stern to checkself,  (diagnosing
through  eustacetube  that  it  was  to  make with  a  markedly  postpuberal
hypertituitary  type  of  Heidelberg  mannleich cavern  ethics)  lufted  his
slopingforward,  bad Sweatagore good murrough and dublnotch on  to it as  he
was  greedly  obliged, and  like a sensible ham, with infinite  tact in  the
delicate situation seen the touchy nature of its perilous theme, thanked  um
for guilders received and time of day (not a little token abock all the same
that that was owl the God's clock it was) and, upon humble duty to greet his
Tyskminister and he shall gildthegap Gaper and thee his a mouldy voids, went
about his business,  whoever it was, saluting corpses, as a metter of  corse
(one could hound  him out had one  hart  to for the monticules of  scalp and
dandruff  droppings  blaze his trail) accompanied by his  trusty snorler and
his permanent reflection,verbigracious; I have met with you, bird, too late,
or if not, too  worm  and early:  and  with tag for ildiot  repeated  in his
secondmouth language as many of the bigtimer's verbaten words which he could
balbly call to memory that same kveldeve, ere the hour of  the twattering of
bards  in  the  twitterlitter between Druidia and the  Deepsleep  Sea,  when
suppertide  and souvenir to Charlatan Mall jointly kem gently and  along the
quiet darkenings of  Grand and Royal, ff, flitmansfluh, and, kk, 't crept i'
hedge  whenas to many a softongue's pawkytalk mude unswer u sufter poghyogh,
Arvanda  always  aquiassent, while,  studying castelles  in  the blowne  and
studding cowshots over  the noran, he spat in careful convertedness a musaic
dispensation about his hearthstone, if you please, (Irish saliva, mawshe dho
hole, but would  a respectable prominently connected fellow  of Iro-European
ascendances with welldressed ideas  who knew  the  correct thing  such as Mr
Shallwesigh or Mr Shallwelaugh expectorate after such a callous fashion,  no
thank yous! when he  had  his belcher  spuckertuck in  his pucket,  pthuck?)
musefed with  his thockits after having supped  of the dish  sot and pottage
which  he snobbishly  dabbed  Peach Bombay  (it  is  rawly  only  Lukanpukan
pilzenpie  which  she knows  which  senaffed and  pibered him), a supreme of
excelling  peas, balled  under minnshogue's milk into whitemalt winesour,  a
proviant the littlebilker hoarsely relished, chaff it, in the snevel season,
being as fain o't as your rat wi'fennel; and on this celebrating occasion of
the happy escape, for a  crowning  of pot valiance, this  regional  platter,
benjamin of bouillis,  with a  spolish olive to middlepoint its zaynith, was
marrying itself (porkograso!) erebusqued very  deluxiously with a  bottle of
Phenice-Bruerie  '98, followed for  second nuptials  by a Piessporter, Grand
Cur, of both of which cherished tablelights (though humble the bounquet 'tis
a leaman's farewell) he obdurately sniffed the cobwebcrusted corks.
     Our cad's bit of strife (knee Bareniece Maxwelton) with a quick ear for
spittoons  (as the  aftertale  hath it)  glaned  up as usual with  dumbestic
husbandry  (no persicks and armelians for thee,  Pomeranzia!)  but, slipping
the clav in her claw, broke of  the matter among a hundred and eleven others
in her usual curtsey (how faint these  first vhespers womanly are,  a secret
pispigliando, amad the lavurdy den of their manfolker!) the next night nudge
one as was Hegesippus over a hup a ' chee, her eys dry and  small and speech
thicklish because he appeared a funny colour like he couldn't stood they old
hens no longer, to her particular reverend, the director, whom she had  been
meaning  in  her  mind  primarily  to  speak  with  (hosch,  intra!  jist  a
timblespoon!)  trusting, between  cuppled  lips and  annie  lawrie  promises
(mighshe never have Esnekerry  pudden come Hunanov for her pecklapitschens!)
that  the gossiple  so  delivered in  his epistolear, buried teatoastally in
their Irish stew would go no further than his jesuit's cloth, yet (in vinars
venitas! volatiles valetotum!)  it  was this overspoiled  priest  Mr Browne,
disguised as a vincentian,  who, when seized of the facts, was overheard, in
his  secondary  personality  as  a  Nolan and  underreared,  poul  soul,  by
accident--if, that is, the incident it  was an accident for here the ruah of
Ecclectiastes  of   Hippo  outpuffs  the  writress  of  Havvah-ban-Annah--to
pianissime  a slightly varied version of  Crookedribs  confidentials,  (what
Mere  Aloyse  said but  for  Jesuphine's sake !) hands between  hahands,  in
fealty sworn (my  bravor best! my fraur!)  and, to the strains of The Secret
of Her Birth, hushly pierce the rubiend aurellum of  one Philly Thurnston, a
layteacher of rural  science and orthophonethics  of  a nearstout figure and
about the middle of his forties during a  priestly flutter for safe and sane
bets  at the hippic runfields of  breezy  Baldoyle on  a  date (W.  W.  goes
through the cald) easily capable of rememberance  by all pickersup of events
national and  Dublin details, the  doubles of Perkin and  Paullock, peer and
prole, when the classic Encourage Hackney Plate was captured by two noses in
a stablecloth finish,ek and nek, some and none, evelo nevelo, from the cream
colt Bold  Boy  Cromwell after a clever getaway by Captain Chaplain Blount's
roe hinny Saint Dalough, Drummer  Coxon, nondepict third, at breakneck odds,
thanks to  you great  little,  bonny  little,  portey little, Winny  Widger!
you're all their  nappies!  who in his neverrip  mud  and purpular  cap  was
surely leagues unlike any  other phantomweight that ever toppitt  our timber
maggies.
     'Twas two pisononse Timcoves (the wetter is pest,  the renns  are overt
and  come and the  voax of the turfur is hurled on our lande) of the name of
Treacle Tom as  was just out of pop following  the theft of a  leg of Kehoe,
Donnelly and Packenham's Finnish  pork and his own blood  and  milk  brother
Frisky  Shorty,  (he  was,  to be  exquisitely punctilious about  them, both
shorty and  frisky) a tipster,  come off the hulks, both of them awful poor,
what was  out on the bumaround for an oofbird game for a jimmy o'goblin or a
small thick un  as chanced, while the Seaforths was making  the colleenbawl,
to ear the passon in the motor clobber make  use of his  law language (Edzo,
Edzo on), touchin the case of Mr Adams  what was in all the sundays about it
which he was rubbing noses with and having a gurgle off his own along of the
butty bloke in the specs.
     This  Treacle Tom to whom reference has been made had  been absent from
his usual wild and woolly haunts in the land of counties capalleens for some
time  previous to that (he was, in fact, in the habit of frequenting  common
lodginghouses where he  slept  in a  nude state,  hailfellow  with  meth, in
strange men's cots) but on racenight, blotto after divers tots of hell fire,
red biddy,  bull  dog,  blue ruin  and  creeping jenny, Eglandine's choicest
herbage,  supplied by the  Duck and Doggies, the  Galopping Primrose, Brigid
Brewster's, the Cock, the Postboy's Horn, the Little Old Man's and All Swell
That Aimswell,  the Cup and the Stirrup, he sought his wellwarmed leababobed
in  a housingroom Abide With Oneanother at  Block W.W., (why didn't  he back
it?)  Pump  Court, The  Liberties, and,  what with moltapuke  on  voltapuke,
resnored  alcoh  alcoho  alcoherently  to the burden of  I  come,  my  horse
delayed, nom num, the substance of the  tale of the  evangelical  bussybozzy
and  the  rusinurbean  (the 'girls' he  would  keep  calling  them  for  the
collarette  and  skirt, the sunbonnet and  carnation) in parts (it seemed he
was before the eyots  of martas or otherwales  the thirds of fossilyears, he
having beham  with katya  when  lavinias had  her mens  lease to  sea  in  a
psumpship doodly show whereat he was looking for  fight niggers  with whilde
roarses) oft in the chilly night  (the  metagonistic! the epickthalamorous!)
during  uneasy  slumber  in  their   hearings  of  a  small  and  stonybroke
cashdraper's executive,  Peter  Cloran  (discharged),  O'Mara, an  exprivate
secretary of  no fixed abode  (locally known as Mildew Lisa), who had passed
several  nights,  funnish  enough,  in  a  doorway  under  the  blankets  of
homelessness  on  the bunk of iceland,  pillowed upon  the stone  of destiny
colder than man's knee or  woman's breast, and Hosty, (no slouch of a name),
an illstarred beachbusker, who,  sans rootie and  sans scrapie, suspicioning
as  how  he was setting on a  twoodstool  on the verge  of  selfabyss,  most
starved, with  melancholia over everything in general,  (night  birman,  you
served him with natigal's nano !) had been towhead tossing on his shakedown,
devising ways and manners of means, of what he loved to ifidalicence somehow
or other in the nation getting a hold of  some chap's parabellum in the hope
of taking  a wing sociable and lighting upon a sidewheel  dive somewhere off
the Dullkey Downlairy and Bleakrooky tramaline where he could throw true and
go  and  blow  the  sibicidal napper off himself  for two bits to  boldywell
baltitude  in the peace and  quitybus  of a one sure  shot bottle, he  after
having being trying all  he knew with the lady's help of  Madam Gristle  for
upwards of eighteen calanders  to get out of Sir Patrick  Dun's, through Sir
Humphrey  Jervis's  and  into  the  Saint  Kevin's  bed  in  the  Adelaide's
hosspittles  (from   these  incurable   welleslays  among  those   uncarable
wellasdays  through  Sant Iago by his  cocklehat, goot  Lazar,  deliver us!)
without after having been able to jerrywangle it anysides. Lisa O'Deavis and
Roche Mongan (who had so much incommon,  epipsychidically; if the  phrase be
permitted  hostis et odor insuper petroperfractus) as  an  understood  thing
slept  their sleep of  the  swimborne in the one  sweet undulant  mother  of
tumblerbunks with Hosty just how the shavers in the  shaw the yokels  in the
yoats   or,   well,   the   wasters   in  the   wilde,   and  the   bustling
tweenydawn-of-all-works (meed of anthems here  we pant!)  had  not been many
jiffies furbishing potlids, doorbrasses, scholars' applecheeks and linkboy's
metals when, ashhopperminded like  no fella he go  make bakenbeggfuss  longa
white man,  the rejuvenated busker (for  after a goodnight's rave and rumble
and a shinkhams topmorning with his coexes he  was not the same man) and his
broadawake  bedroom suite (our  boys, as our Byron called them) were  up and
ashuffle from  the  hogshome  they  lovenaned  The Barrel,  cross  Ebblinn's
chilled  hamlet  (thrie  routes  and  restings  on  their  then  superficies
curiously  correspondant  with  those  linea and  puncta where  our  tubenny
habenny metro maniplumbs below the oberflake underrails and stations at this
time of riding)  to  the thrummings of a crewth fiddle which, cremoaning and
cronauning,  levey  grevey,  witty  and  wevey,  appy,  leppy  and playable,
caressed the ears of the subjects of King Saint Finnerty the Festive who, in
brick homes of  their  own and in their flavory  fraiseberry  beds,  heeding
hardly cry of honeyman, soed lavender or foyneboyne salmon alive, with their
priggish mouths all open for the larger  appraisiatiOn of  this  longawaited
Messiagh  of roaratorios, were only  halfpast atsweeeep  and after  a  brisk
pause at  a pawnbroking establishment for the prothetic purpose of redeeming
the  songster-s truly admirable false teeth and a prolonged visit to a house
of  call  at  Cujas  Place, fizz, the Old Sots' Hole in  the parish of Saint
Cecily  within  the  liberty of Ceolmore  not  a  thousand  or  one national
leagues,  that  was, by Griffith's valuation, from the site of the statue of
Primewer  Glasstone setting a match to  the march  of  a  maker (last of the
stewards   peut-�tre),  where,   the  tale  rambles   along,  the   trio  of
whackfolthediddlers was joined by  a  further--  intentions--apply--tomorrow
casual and a decent sort of the hadbeen variety  who had just  been touching
the  weekly insult, phewit, and  all figblabbers (who  saith of  noun?)  had
stimulants in the shape of gee and gees stood by the damn decent  sort after
which stag luncheon and a few ones more just to celebrate yesterday, flushed
with  their  firestufffortered  friendship,  the rascals  came  out  of  the
licensed premises,  (Browne's first, the  small p.s. ex-exexecutive capahand
in their sad rear like a lady's postscript: I want money. Pleasend),  wiping
their laughleaking  lipes  on their sleeves, how the bouckaleens shout their
roscan generally (seinn fion,  seinn  fion's araun.)  and the rhymers' world
was with reason the richer for a wouldbe  ballad,  to the balledder of which
the  world of cumannity singing  owes  a  tribute for  having  placed on the
planet's melomap  his  lay of the  vilest  bogeyer  but  most attractionable
avatar the world has ever had to explain for.
     This, more krectly lubeen  or fellow -- me --  lieder was first  poured
forth where Riau Liviau  riots and col de  Houdo humps, under  the shadow of
the  monument  of  the shouldhavebeen legislator  (Eleutheriodendron! Spare,
woodmann,  spare!) to an  overflow meeting  of all  the nations  in  Lenster
fullyfilling the  visional  area and,  as  a singleminded supercrowd, easily
representative, what with masks, whet with faces, of all sections  and cross
sections  (wineshop and cocoahouse poured out  to brim  up the broaching) of
our  liffeyside people (to omit to mention of the mainland minority and such
as  had wayfared via Watling, Ernin,  Icknild and Stane,  in chief a  halted
cockney car with its quotal of Hardmuth's hacks, a northern tory, a southern
whig, an  eastanglian  chronicler  and a landwester  guardian)  ranging from
slips of young dublinos from Cutpurse Row  having nothing better to  do than
walk  about  with their  hands  in  their  kneepants,  sucking  airwhackers,
weedulicet, jumbobricks, side  by side  with truant officers, three  woollen
balls  and  poplin  in  search  of a croust  of  pawn  to busy  professional
gentlemen, a  brace  of  palesmen with dundrearies, nooning  toward  Daly's,
fresh from snipehitting and mallardmissing on Rutland heath, exchanging cold
sneers,  massgoing ladies  from Hume  Street in  their  chairs, the  bearers
baited, some wandering hamalags out of the adjacent  cloverfields of Mosse's
Gardens, an oblate father  from Skinner's Alley, bricklayers,  a fleming, in
tabinet  fumant,  with spouse and  dog,  an aged hammersmith  who  had  some
chisellers by the hand, a bout of cudgel players, not a  few  sheep with the
braxy,  two  bluecoat scholars, four  broke gents  out of  Simpson's  on the
Rocks, a portly and a  pert still tassing Turkey  Coffee and orange shrub in
tickeyes  door, Peter  Pim  and  Paul Fry and then Elliot  and, O, Atkinson,
suffering  hell's delights  from the blains of  their annuitants' acorns not
forgetting  a deuce of dianas ridy for the hunt, a particularist  prebendary
pondering on the roman easter, the tonsure question and greek uniates, plunk
em, a lace lappet head or two or three or four from a window, and so on down
to  a few good old souls, who,as they  were juiced after taking their pledge
over at the uncle's place, were evidently  under the spell  of liquor,  from
the  wake  of Tarry the Tailor  a fair  girl,  a jolly postoboy thinking off
three flagons and one, a plumodrole, a half sir  from the weaver's almshouse
who clings and clings and chatchatchat clings to her, a wholedam's cloudhued
pittycoat, as  child, as  curiolater, as Caoch  O'Leary. The  wararrow  went
round, so it did, (a nation wants  a gaze) and the ballad,  in the felibrine
trancoped metre  affectioned  by Taiocebo  in his Casudas  de  Poulichinello
Artahut,  stumpstampaded  on  to  a  slip  of  blancovide  and  headed by an
excessively  rough  and red woodcut, privately  printed at the  rimepress of
Delville, soon fluttered its secret on white highway and  brown byway to the
rose of the  winds and the blew of the gaels,  from  archway to lattice  and
from  black hand to pink  ear,  village  crying to village, through the five
pussyfours green of the united states of Scotia Picta--and he who denays it,
may his hairs be rubbed in dirt!  To the added strains (so peacifold) of his
majesty the  flute, that onecrooned king of  inscrewments, Piggott's purest,
ciello  alsoliuto, which  Mr Delaney  (Mr Delacey?),  horn,  anticipating  a
perfect downpour of plaudits among the rapsods, piped out of his decentsoort
hat, looking  still more like his purseyful namesake  as men of Gaul  noted,
but before of to sputabout, the snowycrested curl  amoist the leader's  wild
and moulting hair,  'Ductor' Hitchcock hoisted his fezzy fuzz at  bludgeon's
height signum  to his companions of the  chalice  for the Loud Fellow, boys'
and silentium in curia! (our maypole once more where he rose of old) and the
canto was chantied there chorussed and christened where by the old tollgate,
Saint Annona's Street and Church.
     And around  the lawn the rann it rann  and this is the rann  that Hosty
made. Spoken. Boyles and  Cahills, Skerretts and Pritchards, viersified  and
piersified may the  treeth we tale of live in stoney. Here line the refrains
of. Some vote him Vike, some mote him Mike, some dub him Llyn and Phin while
others hail him Lug Bug  Dan  Lop, Lex, Lax,  Gunne or  Guinn.  Some apt him
Arth,  some  bapt him  Barth, Coll, Noll, Soll, Will, Weel, Wall but I parse
him Persse O'Reilly  else he's called no name at all. Together. Arrah, leave
it to  Hosty, frosty Hosty, leave it to Hosty for he's the mann to rhyme the
rann,  the rann, the  rann, the  king of all ranns. Have you here? (Some ha)
Have we where?  (Some  hant) Have  you  hered?  (Others do) Have we  whered?
(Others dont) It's cumming,  it's brumming!  The clip,  the clop! (All  cla)
Glass                               crash.                               The
(klikkaklakkaklaskaklopatzklatschabattacreppycrottygraddaghsemmihsammihnouithappluddyappladdypkonpkot!).

     Ardite, arditi!
     Music cue

     "THE BALLAD OF PERSSE O'REILLY

     Have  you heard  of  one Humpty Dumpty How he fell with  a roll  and  a
rumble And  curled up like  Lord Olofa  Crumple By the butt  of the Magazine
Wall,
     (Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
     Hump, helmet and all?

     He was one time our King of  the Castle  Now  he's kicked  about like a
rotten old  parsnip. And from  Green street  he'll be sent  by  order of His
Worship To the penal jail of Mountjoy

     (Chorus) To the jail of Mountjoy!
     Jail him and joy.

     He  was fafafather  of all schemes  for to bother us  Slow  coaches and
immaculate contraceptives for the populace, Mare's milk for the sick,  seven
dry Sundays a week, Openair love and religion's reform,
     (Chorus) And religious reform,
     Hideous in form.

     Arrah,  why, says  you,  couldn't he manage  it?  I'll go bail, my fine
dairyman darling, Like  the  bumping bull of the Cassidys All your butter is
in your horns.
     (Chorus) His butter is in his horns.
     Butter his horns!

     (Repeat) Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt
     [on ye, Rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns!

     Balbaccio, balbuccio! We had chaw chaw chops,  chairs, chewing gum, the
chicken
     [pox  and  china  chambers  Universally  provided  by  this soffsoaping
salesman.  Small wonder  He'll Cheat E'erawan our local  lads  nicknamed him
When Chimpden first took the floor
     (Chorus) With his bucketshop store
     Down Bargainweg, Lower.

     So snug he was in his  hotel premises sumptuous But soon  we'll bonfire
all his  trash, tricks  and trumpery And'tis short till sheriff Clancy'll be
winding up his unlimited
     [company With the bailiff's bom at the door,
     (Chorus) Bimbam at the door.
     Then he'll bum no more.

     Sweet bad luck on  the  waves washed to our  island The hooker  of that
hammerfast viking And Gall's curse on the day when Eblana  bay Saw his black
and tan man-o'-war.
     (Chorus) Saw his man-o'-war.
     On the harbour bar.

     Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls Donnez
     [moi  scampitle,  wick  an  wipin'fampiny  Fingal   Mac  Oscar  Onesine
Bargearse Boniface Thok's  min gammelhole Norveegickers moniker Og as ay are
at gammelhore Norveegickers cod.
     (Chorus) A Norwegian camel old cod.
     He is, begod.

     Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! up with the rann, the rhyming
     [rann!

     It  was  during  some fresh water  garden pumping  Or, according to the
Nursing Mirror, while admiring the mon
     [keys That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey Made bold a maid to woo
     (Chorus) Woohoo, what'll she doo!
     The general lost her maidenloo!

     He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher, For to go
and  shove himself  that  way on  top  of  her. Begob, he's the crux  of the
catalogue Of our antediluvial zoo,
     (Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
     Noah's larks, good as noo.

     He was joulting by  Wellinton's monument  Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap  of  the  omnibus And he  caught  his
death of fusiliers,
     (Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
     Give him six years.

     'Tis sore  pity for his innocent poor  children But  look  out for  his
missus  legitimate! When  that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker Won't there
be earwigs on the green?
     (Chorus) Big earwigs on the green,
     The largest ever you seen.

     Suffoclose! Shikespower! Seudodanto! Anonymoses!

     Then we'll have a  free  trade Gaels' band and mass meeting For to  sod
the brave son of Scandiknavery. And we'll bury him down in  Oxmanstown Along
with the devil and Danes,
     (Chorus) With the deaf and dumb Danes,
     And all their remains.

     And not all the king's men nor his horses Will resurrect his corpus For
there's no true spell in Connacht or hell
     (bis) That's able to raise a Cain.

Chapter 3

     Chest Cee! 'Sdense!  Corpo  di  barragio! you spoof  of visibility in a
freakfog, of mixed sex cases among goats  hill cat and plain mousey,  Bigamy
Bob  and his  old Shanvocht!  The  Blackfriars treacle  plaster  outrage  be
liddled! Therewith  was released in  that kingsrick  of  Humidia a poisoning
volume of cloud  barrage indeed. Yet all  they who heard or redelivered  are
now  with  that family  of bards and  Vergobretas himself  and  the crowd of
Caraculacticors  as much no  more as  be they not  yet now or had  they then
notever been. Canbe in some future we shall presently here amid those zouave
players of Inkermann the  mime  mumming the mick  and his nick miming  their
maggies, Hilton  St  Just (Mr  Frank Smith), Ivanne Ste Austelle  (Mr  J. F.
Jones), Coleman  of Lucan taking four parts, a choir of the O'Daley O'Doyles
doublesixing  the  chorus in  Fenn Mac  Call  and the Serven Feeries of Loch
Neach, Galloper Troppler  and Hurleyquinn the zitherer of the past  with his
merrymen all,  zimzim,  zimzim.  Of the persins  sin  this  Eyrawyggla  saga
(which,  thorough  readable  to int from  and, is  from  tubb to  buttom all
falsetissues, antilibellous and nonactionable and this applies to  its whole
wholume) of poor Osti-Fosti, described as quite a musical genius in a  small
way and the owner of an exceedingly niced ear, with tenorist voice to match,
not  alone,  but  a  very major poet of  the poorly meritary order (he began
Tuonisonian  but  worked his passage  up as  far as the  we-allhang-together
Animandovites) no one  end is  known.  If they  whistled him  before he  had
curtains up they are whistling him still after his curtain's doom's doom. Ei
f--. His husband, poor  old A'Hara (Okaroff?) crestfallen by things and down
at  heels  at  the  time, they  squeak,  accepted  the  (Zassnoch!) ardree's
shilling at the  conclusion of  the Crimean war and,  having  flown his wild
geese, alohned in crowds  to warnder  on  like  Shuley  Luney,  enlisted  in
Tyrone's horse, the Irish  whites, and soldiered a bit with Wolsey under the
assumed name of  Blanco  Fusilovna  Bucklovitch  (spurious)  after which the
cawer  and the marble  halls of Pump  Court Columbarium, the home of the old
seakings, looked  upon  each  other and queth  their  haven evermore for  it
transpires  that  on the other side of  the water it came about that on  the
field of Vasileff's Cornix inauspiciously with his unit he perished, saying,
this papal leafless to old chap give,  rawl chawclates for mouther-in-louth.
Booil.  Poor  old  dear Paul Horan, to  satisfy his literary as well  as his
criminal  aspirations,  at  the suggestion  thrown  out  by the  doomster in
loquacity  lunacy, so  says  the  Dublin  Intelligence,  was  thrown  into a
Ridley's for  inmates in the northern counties.  Under the  name of Orani he
may have been the utility man of the troupe capable of sustaining long parts
at short notice. He was.  Sordid Sam, a dour decent deblancer, the unwashed,
haunted  always  by  his  ham,  the  unwished,  at  a word from  Israfel the
Summoner, passed away  painlessly  after  life's  upsomdowns  one hallowe'en
night, ebbrous  and  in the state  of nature, propelled from Behind into the
great  Beyond by footblows  coulinclouted  upon  his  oyster  and  atlas  on
behanged  and behooved and  behicked and  behulked of his last  fishandblood
bedscrappers,  a  Northwegian and  his mate of the Sheawolving class. Though
the last straw glimt his baring this stage thunkhard is  said (the pitfallen
gagged  him as 'Promptboxer') to have solemnly said -- as had the brief thot
but fell in till his  head like a bass dropt neck fust  in till a bung crate
(cogged!):  Me  drames, O'Loughlins, has come through! Now let the  centuple
celves of my egourge as  Micholas de Cusack calls them, -- of all of whose I
in my hereinafter of course by  recourse demission me --  by the coincidance
of their  contraries reamalgamerge in that indentity of undiscernibles where
the Baxters and the Fleshmans may they cease to bidivil uns and (but at this
poingt  though the iron thrust of his cockspurt start might have prepared us
we  are wellnigh stinkpotthered by the  mustardpunge  in  the  tailend) this
outandin  brown candlestock melt Nolan's into peese! Han var. Disliken as he
was  to  druriodrama, her  wife  Langley,  the  prophet, and  the  decentest
dozendest  short  of a frusker whoever  stuck his spickle through his spoke,
disappeared,  (in  which  toodooing  he  has  taken  all  the French  leaves
unveilable out  of  Calomnequiller's  Pravities)  from the  sourface of this
earth,  that austral  plain  he  had  transmaried  himself  to, so  entirely
spoorlessly  (the  mother  of  the book  with a  dustwhisk  tabularasing his
obliteration done upon her involucrum) as to tickle  the speculative to  all
but opine (since the  Levey who might have been Langley may have really been
a redivivus  of  paganinism or  a  volunteer  Vousden) that  the  hobo  (who
possessed a large  amount  of  the humoresque) had transtuled his  funster's
latitat to its finsterest interrimost. Bhi she. Again, if Father San Browne,
tea  and toaster to  that quaintesttest  of yarnspinners is Padre Don Bruno,
treu  and troster to the queen  of Iar-Spain, was the reverend, the sodality
director,   that  eupeptic   viceflayer,  a   barefaced  carmelite,to  whose
palpitating pulpit (which of  us but remembers the rarevalent and hornerable
Fratomistor Nawlanmore and Brawne.) sinning  society sirens (see  the [Roman
Catholic] presspassim) fortunately became so  enthusiastically  attached and
was an objectionable ass who  very occasionally cockaded a raffles ticket on
his hat  which he wore all to one side like  the hangle of  his  pan (if Her
Elegance saw him she'd have the canary!) and  was semiprivately convicted of
malpractices  with his  hotwashed tableknife (glossing over the  cark in his
pocket)  that same snob  of  the dunhill,  fully  several yearschaums riper,
encountered by the General on that redletter morning or maynoon jovesday and
were they? Fuitfuit.
     When  Phishlin  Phil  wants  throws his lip  'tis pholly to  be fortune
flonting and  whoever's gone to mix Hotel by  the salt say water there's nix
to nothing  we  can  do  for he's  never  again to sea.  It is  nebuless  an
autodidact  fact  of  the commonest  that  the  shape  of the  average human
cloudyphiz, whereas  sallow has  long daze faded, frequently altered its ego
with the possing  of the showers (Not original!). Whence it  is a slopperish
matter, given the wet and low visibility (since in this scherzarade of one's
thousand one  nightinesses that sword  of certainty which would  indentifide
the  body  never  falls)  to  idendifine  the  individuone  in scratch  wig,
squarecuts, stock lavaleer, regattable oxeter, baggy pants and shufflers (he
is often alluded  to as Slypatrick,  the llad in the  llane) with already an
incipience (lust!)  in the direction of  area  baldness  (one is continually
firstmeeting with  odd  sorts of others at all sorts of ages!) who was asked
by free  boardschool shirkers in  drenched coats  overawall, Will,  Conn and
Otto, to tell them overagait,  Vol, Pov and Dev, that fishabed ghoatstory of
the haardly creditable edventyres  of the Haberdasher, the two  Curchies and
the three Enkelchums in their Bearskin ghoats! Girles and jongers,but he has
changed  alok syne  Thorkill's  time! Ya,  da, tra, gathery,  pimp, shesses,
shossafat,   okodeboko,  nine!  Those  many  warts,  those  slummy  patches,
halfsinster wrinkles, (what  has come over the face on wholebroader E?), and
(shrine of Mount Mu save us!) the large fungopark he has grown! Drink!
     Sport's a common thing. It was the Lord's own day for damp (to wait for
a  postponed regatta's eventualising is  not  of Battlecock  Shettledore  --
Juxta -- Mare  only) and the request for a fully  armed explanation was  put
(in Loo  of  Pat) to the porty  (a  native of the  sisterisle -- Meathman or
Meccan? -- by his  brogue, exrace eyes,  lokil calour and lucal  odour which
are  said to have  been average clownturkish  (though  the capelist's voiced
nasal liquids and the way he sneezed at zees haul us back  to the craogs and
bryns  of  the Silurian Ordovices) who,  the lesser pilgrimage accomplished,
had made, pats' and pigs' older inselt, the southeast bluffs of the stranger
stepshore,  a regifugium persecutorum,  hence hindquarters) as  he paused at
evenchime  for some  or so minutes (hit  the  pipe  dannyboy!  Time  to won,
barmon. I'll take ten to win.) amid the devil's one duldrum  (Apple  by  her
blossom window  and  Charlotte at her toss  panomancy his sole admirers, his
only tearts in store) for a fragrend culubosh  during his weekend pastime of
executing   with   Anny   Oakley  deadliness  (the   consummatory  pairs  of
provocatives, of which remained provokingly but  two, the ones he fell  for,
Lili and  Tutu,  cork em!) empties which had  not very long before contained
Reid's family (you ruad  that before,  soaky, but all  the bottles in sodemd
histry  will  not  soften your  bloodathirst!)  stout.  Having reprimed  his
repeater  and resiteroomed his  timespiece His Revenances, with still a life
or two to spare for the space of his occupancy of a world at a time, rose to
his  feet  and  there,  far  from  Tolkaheim,  in  a  quiet  English  garden
(commonplace!),  since  known  as  Whiddington  Wild,  his simple  intensive
curolent vocality, my dearbraithers, my  most dearbrathairs, as he, so  is a
supper  as  is  a sipper,  spake  of  the One and told of the Compassionate,
called up before the triad of precoxious scaremakers  (scoretaking:  Spegulo
ne helpas al  malbellulo,  Mi Kredas ke vi  estas prava, Via dote  la vizago
rispondas fraulino) the now to ushere mythical habiliments of Our Farfar and
Arthor of our doyne.
     Television kills  telephony in  brothers' broil. Our  eyes demand their
turn. Let them be seen! And wolfbone  balefires  blaze the trailmost if only
that Mary Nothing  may  burst her bibby  buckshee.  When they set  fire then
she's got  to  glow so we may  stand  some chances of warming to  what every
soorkabatcha,  tum  or  hum,  would  like  to  know.  The  first  Humphrey's
latitudinous baver with puggaree behind,  (calaboose  belong bigboss  belong
Kang  the  Toll) his  fourinhand bow,  his  elbaroom  surtout,  the  refaced
unmansionables  of  gingerine hue,  the  state  slate  umbrella,  his  gruff
woolselywellesly  with the finndrinn knopfs and  the  gauntlet upon the hand
which in  an  hour  not  for him  solely evil had struck  down the  might he
mighthavebeen d'Esterre of whom his nation seemed almost already to be about
to have  need.  Then, stealing his thunder, but in the befitting legomena of
the  smaller  country,  (probable  words,  possibly  said, of  field  family
gleaming) a bit duskish and flavoured with a smile, seein as ow his thoughts
consisted chiefly of the cheerio, he aptly sketched for our soontobe  second
parents (sukand  see  whybe!)  the  touching  seene.  The  solence  of  that
stilling! Here one might a fin fell. Boomster rombombonant! It scenes like a
landescape from Wildu  Picturescu or some seem  on  some dimb Arras, dumb as
Mum's mutyness,  this mimage of the  seventyseventh  kusin of kristansen  is
odable to os across the wineless Ere no oedor nor mere eerie nor liss potent
of suggestion than in the tales of the tingmount. (Prigged !)
     And there oftafter, jauntyjogging, on an Irish visavis, insteadily with
shoulder to  shoulder Jehu  will  tell to Christianier, saint  to sage,  the
humphriad of that fall and rise while daisy winks at her pinker sister among
the tussocks and the  copoll between the shafts mocks the couple on the car.
And as your who may look like how on the owther side of his big belttry your
tyrs and cloes  your noes and paradigm maymay rererise in eren. Follow we up
his whip  vindicative.  Thurston's! Lo  bebold! La  arboro,  lo petrusu. The
augustan peacebetothem  oaks,  the monolith rising stark  from  the  moonlit
pinebarren. In all fortitudinous ajaxious rowdinoisy tenuacity. The  angelus
hour with ditchers bent upon their farm usetensiles, the soft belling of the
fallow  deers  (doerehmoose  genuane!) advertising their milky  approach  as
midnight was  striking the  hours  (letate!),  and  how  brightly the  great
tribune  outed  the  sharkskin  smokewallet  (imitation!)  from  his  frock,
kippers, and  by Joshua, he  tips un a  topping swank cheroot,  none of your
swellish  soide,  quoit the reverse,  and how manfally he says, pluk to pluk
and  lekan  for lukan, he was to  just pluggy well suck  that brown boyo, my
son, and spend a whole  half hour in Havana.  Sorer  of the kreeksmen, would
not thore be old  high gothsprogue! Wherefore he met Master, he mean to say,
he do, sire, bester of redpublicans,  at Eagle Cock Hostel on Lorenzo Tooley
street and how he wished his Honour the  bannocks of Gort and Morya  and Bri
Head and Puddyrick, yore Loudship, and a starchboxsitting in  the pit of his
St Tomach's, -- a strange wish for you, my friend, and it would poleaxe your
sonson's grandson  utterly though  your  own old  sweatandswear  floruerunts
heaved it hoch many as the times, when they were turrified by the hitz.
     Chee chee cheers for Upkingbilly and crow cru cramwells  Downaboo! Hup,
boys, and hat  him! See!  Oilbeam they're lost we've  fount rerembrandtsers,
their hours to date link these heirs to here but wowhere are  those yours of
Yestersdays? Farseeingetherich and Poolaulwoman Charachthercuss and his  Ann
van  Vogt. D.e.e.d! Edned,  ended or sleeping soundlessly?  Favour with your
tongues! Intendite!
     Any dog's life  you list you may still hear them at  it, like sixes and
seventies   as   eversure  as  Halley's  comet,   ulemamen,   sobranjewomen,
storthingboys  and  dumagirls,  as they  pass its bleak and bronze portal of
your Casaconcordia: Huru  more Nee, minny  frickans?  Hwoorledes har Dee de*
Losdoor  onleft mladies, cue. Millecientotrigintadue scudi.  Tippoty, kyrie,
tippoty. Cha kai  rotty kai makkar, sahib? Despenseme  Usted, senhor, en son
succo,   sabez.   O   thaw   bron   orm,  A'Cothraige,  thinkinthou   gaily?
Lick-Pa-flai-hai-pa-Pa-li-si-lang-lang. Epi alo, ecou, Batiste, tuvavnr dans
Lptit boing  going. Ismeme  de bumbac e meias de portocallie.  O.O. Os pipos
mios  es demasiada gruarso  por  O  piccolo  pocchino.  Wee  fee? Ung  duro.
Kocshis, szabad? Mercy, and you? Gomagh, thak.
     And, Cod, says he with mugger's tears: Would you care to know the prise
of  a  liard? Maggis,  nick  your nightynovel! Mass  Travener's at the  mike
again!  And that bag belly  is the buck to goat  it! Meggeg, m'gay chapjappy
fellow, I call our univalse to witness, as sicker as moyliffey eggs is known
by our  good  househalters from  yorehunderts  of  mamooth to be which  they
commercially are in ahoy high British quarters (conventional!) my guesthouse
and cowhaendel credits will immediately  stand ohoh open as straight as that
neighbouring monument's  fabrication before  the hygienic  gllll  (this  was
where  the reverent  sabboth  and  bottlebreaker with firbalk forthstretched
touched upon his tricoloured  boater, which  he uplifted by its pickledhoopy
(he   gave  Stetson  one  and  a  penny  for  it)  whileas  oleaginosity  of
ancestralolosis  sgocciolated  down the both  pendencies  of  his  mutsohito
liptails (Sencapetulo, a more modestuous conciliabulite never  curled  a tom
pocketmouth), cordially inwiting the adullescence who he was wising up to do
in like manner what all did so  as he was able to add) lobe before the Great
Schoolmaster's. (I tell you no story.) Smile!
     The  house  of  Atreox  is  fallen  indeedust (Ilyam,  Ilyum!  Maeromor
Mournomates !) averging on blight like the mundibanks of Fennyana, but deeds
bounds going arise again.  Life,  he himself said once, (his biografiend, in
fact, kills him verysoon, if yet not, after) is a wake, livit or krikit, and
on the bunk of our breadwinning lies the cropse  of our seedfather, a phrase
which the establisher of the world by law might pretinately write across the
chestfront of all manorwombanborn. The scene, refreshed, reroused, was never
to  be forgotten, the hen  and  crusader everintermutuomergent, for later in
the century one of that puisne band of factferreters, (then an excivily (out
of the custom huts) (retired), (hurt), under the sixtyfives act) in a dressy
black modern style and wewere  shiny tan  burlingtons, (tam, homd and dicky,
quopriquos  and peajagd)  rehearsed it,  pippa  pointing,  with  a dignified
(copied)  bow to  a  namecousin  of  the late  archdeacon  F.  X.  Preserved
Coppinger (a hot  fellow in his night, may the mouther  of guard have mastic
on him!)  in a pullwoman of our  first transhibernian with one  still sadder
circumstance which is a dirkandurk heartskewerer if ever to  bring  bouncing
brimmers from marbled eyes. Cycloptically through the  windowdisks  and with
eddying awes the round eyes of the rundreisers,back to back, buck to bucker,
on their airish  chaunting car, beheld  with intouristing anterestedness the
clad pursue the bare, the bare the green, the green the frore, the frore the
cladagain,  as  their  convoy  wheeled encirculingly  abound the  gigantig's
lifetree,  our   fireleaved  loverlucky   blomsterbohm,   phoenix   in   our
woodlessness, haughty, cacuminal, erubescent (repetition!) whose roots  they
be  asches with lustres of peins. For as often as the Archicadenus, pleacing
aside his Irish Field and craving their auriculars to recepticle particulars
before they  got the bump at Castlebar (mat and far!) spoke of it by request
all, hearing in this new reading of the part whereby, because of Dyas in his
machina,   the   new  garrickson's   grimacing  grimaldism  hypostasised  by
substintuation the axiomatic  orerotundity of  that once grand old elrington
bawl,  the  copycus's   description  of   that  fellowcommuter's  play  upon
countenants, could  simply imagine themselves  in their bosom's inmost core,
as pro tem locums, timesported acorss the yawning (abyss), as once they were
seasiders,  listening  to  the  cockshyshooter's evensong  evocation of  the
doomed  but  always  ventriloquent  Agitator,  (nonot  more plangorpound the
billows  o'er  Thounawahallya  Reef!)  silkhouatted,  a  whallrhosmightiadd,
aginsst the dusk of skumring, (would that fane be Saint Muezzin's calling --
holy places !  -- and  this fez brimless as brow of  faithful toucher of the
ground,  did wish  it were -- blessed be the bones ! -- the ghazi, power  of
his sword.)  his  manslayer's  gunwielder  protended towards that  overgrown
leadpencil which was soon, monumentally at least, to rise as Molyvdokondylon
to, to be, to be his mausoleum  (O'dan stod tillsteyne at meisies aye skould
show  pon) while  olover his exculpatory  features,  as Roland  rung,  a wee
dropeen of grief  about to sillonise his jouejous, the  ghost of resignation
diffused  a spectral appealingness, as a young man's drown o'er the  fate of
his waters may gloat,  similar  in origin and akkurat in effective to a beam
of sunshine upon a coffin plate.
     Not olderwise Inn the days of  the Bygning would  our Traveller remote,
unfriended, from van Demon's  Land, some lazy skald or maundering pote, lift
wearywilly his  slowcut snobsic eyes to  the semisigns  of  his  zooteac and
lengthily  lingering  along  flaskneck,  cracket  cup,  downtrodden  brogue,
turfsod, wildbroom,  cabbageblad,  stockfisch, longingly learn that there at
the Angel were  herberged  for him poteen and tea and praties  and baccy and
wine   width   woman   wordth  warbling:   and  informally   quasi-begin  to
presquesm'ile  to queasithin' (Nonsense! There was not very much  windy Nous
blowing at the given moment through the hat of Mr Melancholy Slow!)
     But in  the pragma what formal cause made a smile of that  tothink? Who
was he to whom? (O'Breen's not  his name nor the brown  one his maid.) Whose
are the placewheres? Kiwasti, kisker, kither, kitnabudja? Tal the tem of the
tumulum.  Giv  the  gav  of   the  grube.   Be  it  cudgelplayers'  country,
orfishfellows' town  or leeklickers' land  or panbpanungopovengreskey.  What
regnans raised the  rains have levelled but  we hear  the  pointers and  can
gauge  their compass for  the melos yields the mode and the mode the manners
plicyman, plansiman,  plousiman, plab. Tsin tsin tsin tsin!  The forefarther
folkers for a prize  of  two peaches with Ming, Ching  and Shunny on the lie
low lea. We'll sit down on the hope of  the  ghouly ghost  for  the titheman
troubleth but his hantitat hies not here. They answer from their Zoans; Hear
the four of them! Hark torroar of them! I,  says Armagh, and a'm proud o'it.
I,  says  Clonakilty, God help  us! I, says Deansgrange, and say nothing. I,
says Barna, and whatabout it? Hee haw! Before he fell hill he filled heaven:
a stream, alplapping streamlet, coyly coiled um, cool of  her curls: We were
but  thermites then, wee, wee. Our antheap we sensed as a Hill of Allen, the
Barrow for an People, one Jotnursfjaell: and  it was a grummelung amung  the
porktroop that wonderstruck us as a thunder, yunder.
     Thus  the unfacts, did we  possess  them,  are too imprecisely  few  to
warrant  our certitude,  the evidencegivers by  legpoll too  untrustworthily
irreperible  where  his  adjugers  are  semmingly   freak   threes  but  his
judicandees plainly minus twos. Nevertheless Madam's Toshowus  waxes largely
more lifeliked (entrance, one kudos; exits,  free) and  our notional gullery
is  now  completely  complacent,  an  exegious monument,  aerily perennious.
Oblige  with your  blackthorns; gamps, degrace!  And there  many have paused
before that  exposure of him by old Tom Quad, a  flashback in  which he sits
sated,  gowndabout,  in  clericalease  habit,  watching  bland   sol  slithe
dodgsomely  into  the  nethermore,   a  globule  of  maugdleness  about   to
corrugitate his mild dewed cheek and the tata  of a  tiny victorienne, Alys,
pressed by his limper looser.
     Yet  certes one is. Eher the following winter  had  overed the pages of
nature's book  and  till  Ceadurbar-atta-Cleath became Dablena  Tertia,  the
shadow of the huge outlander,  maladik, multvult, magnoperous, had bulked at
the bar  of  a rota of tribunals in manor hall  as in  thieves' kitchen, mid
pillow  talk and chithouse  chat, on Marlborough Green as through Molesworth
Fields,  here sentenced pro  tried  with Jedburgh  justice,  there acquitted
contestimony with benefit  of clergy. His Thing Mod have undone him: and his
madthing  has  done him  man.  His  beneficiaries are legion  in the part he
created: they number  up  his  years. Greatwheel Dunlop was the name was  on
him: behung, all we are his bisaacles. As  hollyday  in his house  so was he
priest and king to that: ulvy came, envy saw, ivy conquered. Lou ! Lou! They
have waved his green boughs o'er him as they have torn  him limb  from lamb.
For his  muertification and  uxpiration and dumnation and annuhulation. With
schreis and grida, deprofound souspirs. Steady, sullivans! Mannequins pause!
Longtong's breach  is  fallen down but  Graunya's spreed's abroad. Ahdostay,
feedailyones,  and feel the Flucher's bawls for  the total of your flouts is
not  fit to fan his fettle,O! Have  a ring and sing wohl! Chin, chin!  Chin,
chin! And of course all chimed din width the eatmost boviality. Swiping rums
and beaunes  and  sherries and  ciders and  negus and  citronnades too.  The
strongers. Oho, oho,  Mester  Begge, you're  about  to be bagged  in the bog
again. Bugge.  But softsies  seufsighed: Eheu,  for gassies! But, lo! lo! by
the threnning gods, human, erring and  condonable,  what  the statues of our
kuo, who is  the messchef be our kuang, ashu ashure there, the unforgettable
treeshade looms  up  behind the jostling judgements of those,  as all should
owe, malrecapturable days.
     Tap and pat and  tapatagain, (fire firstshot, Missiers the Refuseleers!
Peingpeong! For  saxonlootie!) three tommix,  soldiers free,  cockaleak  and
cappapee,  of  the Coldstream. Guards were  walking, in  (pardonnez-leur, je
vous en  prie,  eh?)  Montgomery Street. One voiced  an opinion in  which on
either  wide (pardonnez!), nodding, all the  Finner Camps concurred (je vous
en prie, eh?).  It was the first woman, they said,  souped him,  that  fatal
wellesday, Lili Coninghams, by suggesting him they  go in a field. Wroth mod
eldfar, ruth  redd  stilstand, wrath  wrackt  wroth,  confessed private  Pat
Marchison  retro.  (Terse!) Thus contenters  with  santoys play.  One of our
coming  Vauxhall ontheboards who  is resting for  the  moment (she has  been
callit by a noted stagey elecutioner a wastepacket Sittons) was interfeud in
a  waistend pewty parlour. Looking  perhaps even  more  pewtyflushed in  her
cherryderry padouasoys, girdle and  braces  by the halfmoon and Seven Stars,
russets from  the Blackamoor's  Head, amongst the climbing boys at his Eagle
and Child and  over  the corn and  hay emptors at their Black and All Black,
Mrs  F . . . A . . . saidaside, half in stage  of whisper  to her confidante
glass, while recoopering her cartwheel chapot (ahat! -- and we now know what
thimbles a baquets on lallance a talls mean), she hoped Sid Arthar would git
a Chrissman's portrout of orange  and  lemonsized orchids  with  hollegs and
ether, from the feeatre of the Innocident, as the worryld had been uncained.
Then, while it is  odrous comparisoning to the sprangflowers of his burstday
which was a viridable goddinpotty for the reinworms and the charlattinas and
all branches of  climatitis, it  has  been such a wanderful noyth  untirely,
added she, with  many regards to  Maha's pranjapansies. (Tart!) Prehistoric,
obitered   to  his  dictaphone  an   entychologist:  his  propenomen  is   a
properismenon. A  dustman nocknamed Sevenchurches in  the employ  of  Messrs
Achburn, Soulpetre and Ashreborn, prairmakers,  Glintalook, was asked by the
sisterhood  the vexed  question during  his  midday collation of  leaver and
buckrom  alternatively  with stenk and  kitteney phie  in a  hashhoush  and,
thankeaven,  responsed  impulsively:  We have just  been propogandering  his
nullity suit and what they took out of his  ear among my own  crush. All our
fellows at O'Dea's sages with Aratar Calaman he is a cemented brick, buck it
all!  A more  nor  usually  sober cardriver,  who was jauntingly hosing  his
runabout, Ginger Jane, took a strong view. Lorry hosed her  as he talked and
this  is  what  he  told rewritemen: Irewaker is  just  a  plain  pink joint
reformee in private life  but  folks all  have  it by brehemons laws he  has
parliamentary  honours.  Eiskaffier  said (Louigi's,  you  know that  man's,
brillant Savourain): Mon foie,  you wish  to  ave some homelette, yes, lady!
Good,mein leber! Your hegg he must break himself See,I crack, so, he sit  in
the  poele,  umbedimbt!  A perspirer (over  sixty) who  was  keeping  up his
tennises panted  he kne  ho  har  twa  to  clect infamatios  but  a diffpair
flannels  climb wall  and trespassing on  doorbell. After fullblown  Braddon
hear this  fresky  troterella!  A  railways barmaid's  view  (they call  her
Spilltears Rue) was thus expressed: to sympathisers of the Dole Line,  Death
Avenue,anent those objects of her pity-prompted ministrance, to wet, man and
his syphon. Ehim!  It is ever too late to whissle when  Phyllis  floods  her
stable. It  would be skarlot shame to jailahim in lockup, as was proposed to
him by the  Seddoms  creature what matter what merrytricks went off with his
revulverher in  connections  with  ehim being a norphan  and enjoining  such
wicked illth, ehim! Well done, Drumcollakill! Kitty Tyrrel is proud of  you,
was the reply of  a  B.O.T. official (O  blame  gnot  the board !) while the
Daughters  Benkletter  murmured  in  uniswoon:  Golforgilhisjurylegs!  Brian
Lynsky,  the cub curser, was questioned at his shouting box, Bawlonabraggat,
and gave a snappy comeback, when saying: Paw! Once more I'll hellbowl!  I am
for caveman chase and  sahara sex, burk you! Them two  bitches ought  to  be
leashed,  canem! Up  hog  and  hoar hunt! Paw!  A  wouldbe  martyr,  who  is
attending on  sanit Asitas where he is being taught to wear  bracelets, when
grilled on the point, revealed the undoubted fact that the consequence would
be  that  so  long  as Sankya  Moondy  played  his  mango tricks  under  the
mysttetry,  with shady apsaras  sheltering in his  leaves'  licence  and his
shadowers torrifried  by  the  potent bolts of  indradiction, there would be
fights   all   over   Cuxhaven.   (Tosh!)   Missioner   Ida   Wombwell,  the
seventeenyearold revivalist, said concerning the coincident of  interfizzing
with grenadines and other respectable and disgusted peersons using the park:
That  perpendicular person is a brut! But a magnificent brut! 'Caligula' (Mr
Danl Magrath,  bookmaker, wellknown to Eastrailian poorusers of  the  Sydney
Parade Ballotin) was, as usual, antipodal with his: striving todie, hopening
tomellow, Ware Splash. Cobbler.  We have meat two hourly, sang out El Caplan
Buycout,  with  the  famous padre's  turridur's  capecast,  meet  too ourly,
matadear!  Dan  Meiklejohn,  precentor,  of  S.S.   Smack  and  Olley's  was
probiverbal with his upsiduxit: mutatus mutandus. Dauran's lord ('Sniffpox')
and  Moirgan's lady ('Flatterfun') took  sides and crossed and bowed to each
other's views  and  recrossed themselves. The  dirty  dubs upin their flies,
went too free, echoed  the  dainly drabs downin their  scenities, una  mona.
Sylvia  Silence,  the  girl  detective  (Meminerva,  but by  now  one  hears
turtlings  all over Doveland!) when  supplied  with informations  as  to the
several  facets  of  the  case  in  her  cozydozy  bachelure's  flat,  quite
overlooking John  a'Dream's mews, leaned back in her really truly easy chair
to  query  restfully  through  her  vowelthreaded syllabelles: Have you evew
thought, wepowtew,  that sheew  gweatness  was  his  twadgedy?  Nevewtheless
accowding to  my considewed attitudes  fow this  act he should pay the  full
penalty, pending puwsuance, as  pew Subsec. 32, section II, of  the C. L. A.
act 1885, anything in this act to the contwawy notwithstanding. Jarley Jilke
began  to silke for he couldn't get home to Jelsey but  ended with: He's got
the sack  that helped him  moult  instench of his gladsome  rags. Meagher, a
naval rating,  seated  on one  of  the  granite  cromlech setts  of  our new
fishshambles for the usual aireating after the  ever  popular act, with whom
were  Questa and Puella, piquante and  quoite, (this had a cold in her brain
while that felt a sink in her summock, wit's wat, wot's wet) was encouraged,
although  nearvanashed  himself,  by one  of  his co-affianced  to get  your
breath,  Walt,  and  gobbit and when  ther chidden  by her fastra sastra  to
saddle  up   your  pance,  Naville,   thus  cor  replied  to   her   other's
thankskissing: I lay my two fingerbuttons, fiancee Meagher,  (he speaks!) he
was to blame about your  two velvetthighs up Horniman's  Hill -- as hook and
eye blame him or any other piscman? -- but I also think, Puellywally, by the
siege of his  trousers there  was someone else  behind  it -- you  bet  your
boughtem blarneys -- about their three drummers down Keysars Lane. (Trite!).
     Be these meer marchant taylor's fablings of a race referend with oddman
rex? Is  now all seenheard  then forgotten? Can it  was, one is fain in this
leaden age  of letters now to wit, that so  diversified outrages (they  have
still  to come!) were planned  and partly carried  out against so  staunch a
covenanter  if it be  true  than any of those recorded ever  took place  for
many, we trow, beyessed to  and denayed of, are given to  us by some who use
the  truth but sparingly  and we,  on this side  ought  to sorrow  for their
pricking pens on that account. The seventh  city, Urovivla, his  citadear of
refuge, whither (would we believe the laimen  and their counts), beyond  the
outraved  gales of  Atreeatic,  changing  clues  with  a  baggermalster, the
hejirite had fled, silentioussuemeant under night's altosonority, shipalone,
a  raven  of  the  wave, (be  mercy, Mara! A he  whence Rahoulas!) from  the
ostmen's dirtby  on the old vic,  to  forget  in expiating manslaughter and,
reberthing in remarriment out of dead seekness to devine previdence, (if you
are looking for the bilder deep  your  ear on the  movietone!) to league his
lot, palm and patte,  with  a  papishee. For mine qvinne I thee  giftake and
bind my  hosenband  I  thee  halter. The  wastobe  land,  a  lottuse land, a
luctuous land, Emeraldilluim,  the peasant  pastured, in which by the fourth
commandment with promise his days apostolic were to be long by  the abundant
mercy of Him Which Thundereth From On High, murmured, would rise against him
with all which in them were,  franchisables and inhabitands, astea as agora,
helotsphilots, do him hurt, poor  jink, ghostly following bodily, as were he
made  a  curse  for  them,  the  corruptible  lay  quick,   all   saints  of
incorruption-of-an holy nation, the common or ere-in-garden castaway, in red
resurrection to condemn so they might convince him, first pharoah, Humpheres
Cheops  Exarchas, of their proper sins. Business bred to speak with  a stiff
upper lip to all men and most occasions the Man we wot of took little  short
of fighting chances but for all that he or his or his care were subjected to
the horrors of the premier terror of Errorland. (perorhaps!)
     We seem  to us (the real Us !)  to be  reading our Amenti in the  sixth
sealed  chapter  of  the going forth  by black.  It  was after  the show  at
Wednesbury that one  tall  man, humping  a suspicious parcel, when returning
late amid a dense particular on  his home way  from the second  house of the
Boore and Burgess Christy Menestrels  by  the  old spot, Roy's Corner, had a
barkiss revolver placed to his faced with the words: you're  shot, major: by
an  unknowable  assailant (masked) against  whom he  had been jealous  over,
Lotta Crabtree  or  Pomona Evlyn. More than  that Whenn the Waylayer  (not a
Lucalizod diocesan or even of the Glendalough see, but hailing fro' the prow
of Little Britain), mentioning in a bytheway  that he, the crawsopper,  had,
in edition to Reade's cutless centiblade, a  loaded Hobson's which left only
twin alternatives as, viceversa, either he would surely shoot her, the aunt,
by pistol,  (she  could be okaysure of  that!) or, failing of such, bash  in
Patch's  blank face beyond  recognition, pointedly asked with  gaeilish gall
wodkar blizzard's business  Thornton had  with that Kane's fender only to be
answered by the aggravated assaulted that  that that was  the snaps for him,
Midweeks, to sultry well go and find  out  if he was showery well  able. But
how transparingly nontrue, gentlewriter ! His feet one  is not  a  tall man,
not  at all,man.  No such parson. No  such  fender. No such lumber. No  such
race. Was it supposedly in connection with a girls, Myramy Huey  or  Colores
Archer, under Flaggy Bridge (for ann there is but one liv  and hir newbridge
is her old) or to explode his twelvechamber and force  a shrievalty entrance
that the heavybuilt Abelbody in a butcherblue  blouse from One Life One Suit
(a  men's wear  store),  with  a  most  decisive  bottle of  single  in  his
possession, seized after  dark by the town guard  at  Haveyoucaught-emerod's
temperance gateway was there in a gate's way.
     Fifthly, how parasoliloquisingly truetoned on his first time of hearing
the wretch's statement that,  muttering Irish,  he had had had  o'gloriously
a'lot too  much hanguest or hoshoe fine to drink in the House of Blazes, the
Parrot in  Hell, the  Orange  Tree, the Glibt,  the Sun,  the Holy Lamb and,
lapse not leashed, in  Ramitdown's  ship hotel  since the  morning moment he
could  dixtinguish a white thread from a black till the  engine of  the laws
declosed  unto Murray and was  only  falling fillthefluthered up against the
gatestone pier  which, with  the cow's bonnet a'top o'it, he falsetook for a
cattlepillar  with purest peaceablest intentions. Yet how lamely hobbles the
hoy of his then  pseudojocax axplanation how, according to his own story, he
vas a process server and  was merely trying to open zozimus  a bottlop stoub
by  mortially hammering his  magnum bonum (the curter the club the sorer the
savage) against the bludgey gate for the boots about the swan,Maurice Behan,
who hastily into his  shoes with nothing his hald  barra tinnteack  and came
down  with homp, shtemp and  jumphet to the tiltyard from the wastes a'sleep
in  his  obi  ohny  overclothes or choker, attracted  by the  norse of  guns
playing Delandy is cartager  on  the  raglar rock to Dulyn, said war' prised
safe in bed as he dreamed that he'd wealthes in mormon  halls when wokenp by
a  fourth loud snore  out of  his  land of byelo while hickstrey's  maws was
grazing  in the  moonlight  by hearing  hammering  on the  pandywhank  scale
emanating from  the  blind pig and anything like it (oonagh!oonagh!)  in the
whole history of the Mullingcan Inn he  never. This battering  babel allower
the  door and  sideposts, he always said, was not in the  very remotest like
the  belzey babble of  a bottle  of boose  which would not rouse him out  o'
slumber deep  but reminded  him loads  more of  the  martiallawsey marses of
foreign  musikants' instrumongs or the overthrewer to the third last days of
Pompery,  if anything. And that after this most  nooningless  knockturn  the
young reine came down desperate and the old liffopotamus started ploring all
over the  plains, as mud  as she cud be, ruinating all the bouchers' schurts
and   the  backers'  wischandtugs  so  that  be   the  chandeleure  of   the
Rejaneyjailey  they were all night wasching the walters  of,  the  weltering
walters off. Whyte.
     Just one moment.  A pinch in  time of  the  ideal, musketeers!  Alphos,
Burkos and Caramis, leave Astrelea for the astrollajerries and  for the love
of  the saunces  and the honour of Keavens pike puddywhackback  to Pamintul.
And roll away the reel world, the reel world,  the  reel world! And call all
your smokeblushes, Snowwhite and Rosered,  if you will have  the real cream!
Now  for a  strawberry  frolic  ! Filons,  filoosh  ! Cherchons  la  flamme!
Fammfamm! Fammfamm!
     Come on, ordinary man with that large big nonobli head, and that blanko
berbecked fischial ekksprezzion Machinsky Scapolopolos, Duzinascu or  other.
Your machelar's mutton leg's getting musclebound from being too pulled. Noah
Beery weighed stone thousand one when Hazel was a hen. Now her fat's falling
fast. Therefore, chatbags, why  not  yours? There are 29  sweet  reasons why
blossomtime's the best. Elders fall for green almonds when they're raised on
bruised  stone root ginger though it winters on their heads as if  auctumned
round their waistbands. If you'd had pains in your  hairs you wouldn't  look
so orgibald. You'd have Colley Macaires on your lump of lead. Now listen, Mr
Leer! And stow that sweatyfunnyadams Simper! Take an old geeser who calls on
his skirt. Note his sleek hair, so elegant, tableau vivant.  He vows her  to
be his own honeylamb, swears they will be papa pals, by  Sam, and share good
times way down west in a  guaranteed happy lovenest when May moon she shines
and they twit twinkle all the night,  combing the comet's tail up right  and
shooting  popguns  at  the  stars.  Creampuffs  all  to  dime!  Every  nice,
missymackenzies! For dear old grumpapar, he's gone on the razzledar, through
gazing and crazing and blazing at the stars. Compree! She wants her wardrobe
to hear from above by return with cash so as she can buy her  Peter Robinson
trousseau and cut  a dash  with Arty, Bert  or  possibly Charley Chance (who
knows?) so tolloll Mr Hunker you're too  dada for me to  dance  (so off  she
goes  !) and  that's how half the gels  in town  has got  their bottom drars
while  grumpapar  he's trying to hitch his braces  on to his trars.  But old
grum he's not so clean dippy between sweet you and  yum (not on  your  life,
boy!  not in those  trousers! not by  a large jugful!) for someplace  on the
sly,where Furphy he isn't by, old grum has his gel number two (bravevow, our
Grum!) and he would like to canoodle her too some part of the time for he is
downright fond  of his number  one but O he's fair  mashed on peaches number
two so  that  if he  could only canoodle the  two,  chivee chivoo, all three
would feel genuinely happy, it's as  simple as  A. B. C., the two mixers, we
mean, with their cherrybum chappy (for he is simply shamming dippy)  if they
all   were   afloat  in  a  dreamlifeboat,   hugging  two  by  two  in   his
zoo-doo-you-doo,   a   tofftoff   for   thee,   missymissy    for   me   and
howcameyou-e'enso  for Farber,  in  his tippy, upindown  dippy,  tiptoptippy
canoodle, can you? Finny.
     Ack,  ack, ack. With which clap, trap and soddenment, three  to a loaf,
our mutual friends  the fender  and  the  bottle  at  the  gate  seem  to be
implicitly  in the  same bateau, so to  singen, bearing also several  of the
earmarks  of  design, for there is in  fact no use in  putting  a tooth in a
snipery of that  sort  and the amount of all those sort of things which  has
been going on onceaday in and twiceaday out every other nachtistag among all
kinds  of promiscious individuals at  all ages in  private homes and reeboos
publikiss  and allover all  and elsewhere  throughout  secular sequence  the
country  over  and  overabroad  has  been  particularly  stupendous.  To  be
continued.  Federals'  Uniteds'  Transports'  Unions'  for  Exultations'  of
Triumphants' Ecstasies.
     But  resuming  inquiries.  Will  it  ever be  next  morning the  postal
unionist's  (officially called carrier's,  Letters Scotch, Limited)  strange
fate  (Fierceendgiddyex  he's  hight,  d.e.,  the  losel  that  hucks around
missivemaids' gummibacks) to hand in a huge chain envelope, written in seven
divers  stages of ink, from blanchessance to lavandaiette, every pothook and
pancrook bespaking the wisherwife, superscribed and  subpencilled by yours A
Laughable  Party,  with afterwite,  S.A.G.,  to  Hyde and  Cheek, Edenberry,
Dubblenn,  WC?  Will  whatever  will be written  in  lappish  language  with
inbursts  of Maggyer always  seem semposed,  black  looking white and  white
guarding black, in that  siamixed twoatalk used  twist stern swift and jolly
roger? Will it bright upon us, nightle, and we plunging to our plight? Well,
it might now, mircle, so it  light. Always and ever  till Cox's wife,  twice
Mrs Hahn, pokes her beak into  the  matter with Owen K. after  her,  to  see
whawa smutter after, will this kiribis pouch filled with litterish fragments
lurk dormant in the paunch of that halpbrother of a herm, a pillarbox?
     The  coffin, a  triumph  of  the illusionist's  art,  at  first  blench
naturally taken for a  handharp (it is handwarp to  tristinguish jubabe from
jabule or either from tubote when all three have just been invened) had been
removed from  the hardware premises of Oetzmann and Nephew, a noted house of
the gonemost west,  which  in the natural course of  all things continues to
supply funeral requisites  of every  needed description. Why needed, though?
Indeed  needed (wouldn't you feel like rattanfowl if you hadn't the  oscar!)
because  the  flash brides or bride in their lily boleros one  games with at
the Nivynubies'  finery ball and your upright  grooms that always come right
up with you (and by jingo when they do!) what else in this mortal world, now
ours, when meet  there night, mid their  nackt, me there  naket, made  their
nought the  hour  strikes,  would bring them rightcame  back  in  the flesh,
thumbs down, to their orses and their hashes.
     To proceed. We might leave that nitrience of oxagiants to take its free
of  the air  and just analectralyse that  very chymerical  combination,  the
gasbag  where  the  warderworks.  And  try  to  pour  somour  heiterscene up
thealmostfere.  In  the bottled heliose case continuing, Long Lally Tobkids,
the  special,  sporting  a  fine  breast  of  medals,  and  a  conscientious
scripturereader to  boot  in the  brick  and tin choorch round the  coroner,
swore  like   a  Norewheezian  tailliur  on  the  stand  before  the  proper
functionary that he was  up against  a right querrshnorrt of  a  mand in the
butcher of the  blues  who,  he guntinued, on  last epening after delivering
some carcasses mattonchepps and meatjutes on behalf of Messrs Otto Sands and
Eastman,   Limericked,   Victuallers,   went   and,  with   his  unmitigated
astonissment, hickicked at the  dun and  dorass  against all the  runes and,
when  challenged  about the pretended hick (it was kickup and down with him)
on his  solemn  by  the  imputant imputed,  said  simply: I appop  pie oath,
Phillyps  Captain. You  did,  as  I sostressed  before. You are deepknee  in
error,  sir,  Madam  Tomkins,  let  me  then   tell  you,  replied  with   a
gentlewomanly salaam MackPartland, (the  meatman's family, and the oldest in
the world except nick, name.) And Phelps was  flayful with  his  peeler. But
his phizz fell.
     Now to the obverse. From  velveteens to dimities is barely a fivefinger
span and hence these camelback  excesses are thought to have been instigated
by one or  either of the causing causes of all, those rushy hollow  heroines
in their skirtsleeves, be she magretta be she the posque. Oh! Oh! Because it
is  a  horrible thing to have to  say to say  to day but one dilalah, Lupita
Lorette, shortly after in  a fit of the unexpectednesses drank carbolic with
all  her dear placid  life before her and paled off  while the  other soiled
dove  that's her  sister-in-love, Luperca  Latouche, finding  one  day while
dodging  chores  that she stripped teasily for binocular man  and  that  her
jambs were jimpjoyed to  see  each other, the nautchy  girly soon  found her
fruitful hat too small for her and rapidly taking time,look,she rapidly took
to  necking, partying and  selling  her  spare favours in the haymow  or  in
lumber closets or in  the greenawn ad huck  (there are certain intimacies in
all  ladies' lavastories we just  lease to  imagination)  or  in  the  sweet
churchyard  close itself for a bit of  soft coal or an array of thin trunks,
serving whom in  fine that same hot coney a la  Zingara which our own little
Graunya of the chilired cheeks dished up to the greatsire of Oscar, that son
of a Coole. Houri  of the coast  of emerald, arrah of the lacessive  poghue,
Aslim-all-Muslim,  the  resigned  to   her  surrender,  did  not  she,  come
leinster's  even, true dotter  of a  dearmud, (her pitch was Forty Steps and
his perch old Cromwell's Quarters) with so valkirry a licence as sent many a
poor pucker packing to  perdition,  again and  again,  ay, and again sfidare
him, tease fido, eh tease fido, eh eh tease fido, toos topples topple, stop,
dug of a dog of a dgiaour, ye! Angealousmei! And did not he, like Arcoforty,
farfar off  Bissavolo,  missbrand her behaveyous  with iridescent huecry  of
down right mean false sop lap sick  dope? Tawfulsdreck! A reine of the shee,
a shebeen quean, a queen  of pranks.  A kingly man, of royal  mien,  regally
robed, exalted be his glory!  So  gave so  take:  Now not, not now! He would
just a min. Suffering trumpet! He  thought  he want.  Whath? Hear,  O  hear,
living of the  land! Hungreb, dead era, hark!  He hea, eyes ravenous  on her
lippling lills. He hear her voi of day gon by. He hears! Zay, zay, zay! But,
by the beer of his profit, he cannot answer. Upterputty till rise and shine!
Nor needs none shaft ne stele from Phenicia or Little Asia to obelise on the
spout, neither pobalclock neither folksstone, nor sunkenness in Tomar's Wood
to bewray how erpressgangs score off the rued. The mouth that tells not will
ever attract the unthinking tongue and so  long  as  the obseen draws theirs
which hear not  so long  till allearth's dumbnation shall the blind lead the
deaf. Tatcho, tawney yeeklings! The column of lumps lends the pattrin of the
leaves behind us. If violence to life,  limb and chattels, often as not, has
been the expression, direct or through  an agent male, of womanhid offended,
(ah! ah!), has not levy of black mail from the times the fairies were in it,
and fain for wilde erthe blothoms followed an impressive  private reputation
for whispered sins?
     Now by memory inspired,  turn  wheel again  to the whole  of the  wall.
Where  Gyant Blyant fronts Peannlueamoore There  was once upon a  wall and a
hooghoog wall  a  was  and such a wallhole did  exist. Ere  ore  or  ire  in
Aaarlund.  Or you Dair's Hair or you Diggin Mosses or your horde of orts and
oriorts  to garble  a garthen of Odin and  the lost  paladays  when  all the
eddams ended with  aves. Armen? The  doun  is theirs  and still to  see  for
menags if  he  strikes  a  lousaforitch  and  we'll  come to those baregazed
shoeshines if you  just shoodov a second.  And let oggs  be good old gaggles
and  Isther  Estarr  play Yesther Asterr. In the drema of  Sorestost  Areas,
Diseased.   A  stonehinged  gate  then  was  for  another  thing  while  the
suroptimist had bought and enlarged  that  shack under fair  rental  of  one
yearlyng  sheep, (prime)  value  of  sixpence, and  one small yearlyng  goat
(cadet) value of eightpence, to  grow old  and happy (hogg it  and kidd him)
for the reminants  of his years;  and  when everything was  got  up  for the
purpose  he  put an  applegate on the  place  by no means as some  pretext a
bedstead in  loo thereof to  keep out donkeys  (the pigdirt hanging from the
jags to  this  hour makes  that clear) and just thenabouts the iron gape, by
old  custom left  open to  prevent  the cats from getting at  the gout,  was
triplepatlockt on him on purpose by his faithful poorters to keep him inside
probably  and possibly enaunter he felt like  sticking out his chest too far
and  tempting  gracious  providence  by a stroll on the  peoplade's  eggday,
unused as he was yet to being freely clodded.
     O,  by  the  by,  lets  wee  brag  of praties,  it ought to  be  always
remembered  in  connection  with  what  has gone  before  that there  was  a
northroomer,  Herr Betreffender, out  for  his  zimmer  holedigs, digging in
number 32  at the  Rum and Puncheon (Branch of Dirty  Dick's  free house) in
Laxlip  (where the Sockeye Sammons were stopping at the time orange fasting)
prior  to  that, a Kommerzial  (Gorbotipacco, he was  wreaking  like Zentral
Oylrubber) from Osterich, the U.S.E. paying (Gaul  save  the mark!)  II/- in
the week (Gosh, these  wholly romads!) of conscience money in the first deal
of Yuly wheil  he was, swishing beesnest with blessure,and  swobbing broguen
eeriesh myth  brockendootsch,  making his reporterage  on Der Fall Adams for
the Frankofurto Siding,  a Fastland payrodicule, and er, consstated that one
h,ad on him the Lynn O'Brien, a meltoned lammswolle, disturbed, and wider he
might  the same zurichschicken other  he  would,  with tosend and obertosend
tonnowatters, one monkey's damages become. Now  you must know, franksman, to
make  a  heart of  glass,  that the game of gaze and  bandstand butchery was
merely a Patsy O'Strap tissue  of threats  and obuses such as roebucks raugh
at pinnacle's peak and after this sort. Humphrey's unsolicited visitor, Davy
or Titus, on a burgley's clan march from the middle west, a hikely excellent
crude man about road who knew his Bullfoost Mountains like a starling bierd,
after doing a long dance untidled to Cloudy Green, deposend his bockstump on
the  waityoumaywantme, after having blew some  quaker's (for you! Oates!) in
through the  houseking's keyhole to  attract  attention, bleated through the
gale outside which the tairor of his clothes was hogcallering, first, be the
hirsuiter, that he would break his  bulsheywigger's  head for him,  next, be
the heeltapper, that he would break the gage over his lankyduckling head the
same way he would crack  a nut  with a monkeywrench and, last of all, be the
stirabouter, that  he  would give  him his  (or  theumperom's  or  anybloody
else's) thickerthanwater  to drink and  his bleday  steppebrodhar's into the
bucket. He demanded more  wood  alcohol to pitch  in with, alleging that his
granfather's was  all taxis  and that it was only  after ten o'connell,  and
this  his isbar was  a public oven for the sake of irsk irskusky, and  then,
not easily discouraged, opened the wrathfloods of his atillarery and went on
at a wicked  rate, weathering against him in mooxed metaphores  from  eleven
thirty to two  in the  afternoon  without even  a  luncheonette interval for
House,  son  of  Clod, to come out,  you  jewbeggar, to  be  Executed  Amen.
Earwicker, that patternmind, that paradigmatic ear, receptoretentive  as his
of  Dionysius,  longsuffering  although  whitening  under restraint  in  the
sititout  corner of his conservatory, behind faminebuilt  walls, his thermos
flask and  ripidian flabel by his  side  and  a walrus whiskerbristle for  a
tuskpick, compiled, while he mourned the flight of his wild guineese, a long
list (now feared in part  lost) to be  kept on file of all abusive names  he
was called (we have been compelled for the rejoicement of foinne loidies ind
the humours  of  Milltown  etcetera by  Josephine Brewster  in the collision
known as  Contrastations with  Inkermann and so on and  sononward, lacies in
loo water, flee, celestials, one  clean turv):  Firstnighter, Informer,  Old
Fruit, Yellow Whigger, Wheatears, Goldy Geit, Bogside Beauty, Yass We've Had
His Badannas, York's Porker, Funnyface, At Baggotty's Bend He Bumped, Grease
with the Butter, Opendoor Ospices,  Cainandabler, Ireland's Eighth Wonderful
Wonder, Beat  My Price, Godsoilman, Moonface the Murderer, Hoary Hairy Hoax,
Midnight  Sunburst, Remove that Bible, Hebdromadary Publocation,  Tummer the
Lame the Tyrannous, Blau Clay,  Tight  before Teatime, Real Your  Pantojoke,
Acoustic Disturbance,  Thinks  He's  Gobblasst  the  Good Dook  of Ourguile,
W.D.'s Grace, Gibbering Bayamouth  of Dublin, His Farther  was  a Mundzucker
and She  had him in a Growler, Burnham and Bailey,  Artist,  Unworthy of the
Homely  Protestant  Religion,  Terry Cotter,  You're Welcome  to  Waterfood,
signed the  Ribbonmen,  Lobsterpot Lardling, All  for Arthur  of this  Town,
Hooshed the Cat  from the  Bacon,  Leathertogs Donald,  The Ace and Deuce of
Paupering, O'Reilly's Delights to Kiss the Man behind the Borrel, Magogagog,
Swad Puddlefoot, Gouty Ghibeline, Loose Luther, Hatches Cocks' Eggs,  Muddle
the Plan, Luck before Wedlock, I Divorce Thee Husband, Tanner and a Make, Go
to Hellena  or Come to  Connies, Piobald  Puffpuff  His Bride, Purged out of
Burke's, He's None of  Me Causin,  Barebarean,  Peculiar Person, Grunt Owl's
Facktotem,  Twelve Months Aristocrat, Lycanthrope, Flunkey Beadle Vamps  the
Tune Letting  on He's Loney,  Thunder  and Turf  Married into Clandorf, Left
Boot  Sent  on Approval, Cumberer of Lord's Holy  Ground,  Stodge Arschmann,
Awnt  Yuke,  Tommy Furlong's Pet Plagues, Archdukon Cabbanger, Last Past the
Post,  Kennealey Won't Tell Thee off Nancy's Gown, Scuttle to Cover,  Salary
Grab, Andy  Mac  Noon in  Annie's Room, Awl Out, Twitchbratschballs, Bombard
Street Bester,  Sublime Porter, A Ban for Le  King of the Burgaans and a Bom
for Ye Sur of all the Ruttledges, O'Phelim's Cutprice, And at Number Wan Wan
Wan, What He Done  to Castlecostello, Sleeps with  Feathers end Ropes, It is
Known who Sold Horace the  Rattler, Enclosed find the Sons of Fingal, Swayed
in  his  Falling,  Wants  a Wife and Forty of  Them, Let  Him Do  the  Fair,
Apeegeequanee  Chimmuck, Plowp  Goes  his Whastle, Ruin of the Small Trader,
He---- Milkinghoneybeaverbrooker, Vee was a  Vindner,  Sower Rapes, Armenian
Atrocity,   Sickfish  Bellyup,   Edomite,--'Man   Devoyd  of   the  Commoner
Characteristics of an Irish Nature, Bad Humborg, Hraabhraab,  Coocoohandler,
Dirt,  Miching Daddy, Born Burst Feet Foremost, Woolworth's Worst, Easyathic
Phallusaphist, Guilteypig's Bastard,  Fast in the Barrel, Boose in the  Bed,
Mister  Fatmate, In Custody of  the Polis,  Boawwll's Alocutionist, Deposed,
but  anarchistically  respectsful   of  the  liberties  of  the  noninvasive
individual, did  not  respond a solitary  wedgeword beyond such sedentarity,
though it was as easy as kissanywhere for the passive resistant in the booth
he  was  in to reach for the  hello gripes and ring up Kimmage  Outer 17.67,
because,  as the fundamentalist explained, when at last shocked into speech,
touchin  his woundid feelins in the fuchsiar  the dominican  mission for the
sowsealist potty  was  on at  the time and he thought the  rowmish devowtion
known  as  the  howly  rowsary  might  reeform ihm,  Gonn.  That  more  than
considerably unpleasant  bullocky before he rang off drunkishly pegged a few
glatt  stones,  all of  a size, by way of final mocks for his grapes, at the
wicket in support of his words  that he was not guilphy but, after he had so
slaunga vollayed, reconnoitring through his semisubconscious the seriousness
of  what  he  might  have  done  had  he  really polished  off his  terrible
intentions finally  caused  him to change the  bawling and  leave downg  the
whole grumus of brookpebbles pangpung and,  having sobered  up a  bit, paces
his groundould diablen lionndub, the flay  the flegm,  the floedy fleshener,
(purse,  purse,  pursyfurse, I'll  splish  the  splume  of them  all!)  this
backblocks boor bruskly put out his langwedge and quite  quit the paleologic
scene,  telling how by his selfdenying ordnance he  had  left Hyland on  the
dissenting  table,  after  exhorting  Earwicker  or,  in  slightly  modified
phraseology,  Messrs  or Missrs Earwicker,  Seir,  his feminisible  name  of
multitude, to cocoa come outside to Mockerloo out of that  for the honour of
Crumlin, with his broody old flishguds, Gog's  curse to thim, so as he could
brianslog and burst him all dizzy, you go bail, like Potts Fracture did with
Keddle Flatnose and nobodyatall with Wholyphamous and build rocks over  him,
or if he didn't, for two and thirty straws, be Cacao Campbell,he didn't know
what he wouldn't  do  for him  nor  nobody else  nomore nor him after which,
batell martell, a brisha a milla a  stroka  a boola, so the rage of Malbruk,
playing  on  the  least  change of his  manjester's voice, the  first heroic
couplet  from  the  fuguall tropical, Opus Elf, Thortytoe: My  schemes  into
obeyance for  This  time has  had to fall:  they bit goodbyte to their thumb
and,  his bandol eer his  solgier, dripdropdrap on pool or poldier,  wishing
the loff a falladelfian in the morning,  proceeded with a Hubbleforth slouch
in his slips backwords (Et Cur Heli!) in the directions of the duff and demb
institutions about ten  or eleven  hundred years lurch away in the moonshiny
gorge of Patself on the Bach. Adyoe!
     And thus, with this rochelly  exetur of Bully Acre, came  to close that
last stage  in the siegings  round our archicitadel which we would  like  to
recall,  if old Nestor Alexis would wink the worth for us, as Bar-le-Duc and
Dog-an-Doras and Bangen-opZoom.
     Yed he med leave to many a door beside of Oxmanswold for so witness his
chambered cairns a cloudletlitter silent that are at browse up hill and down
coombe and on eolithostroton, at Howth  or at Coolock or even at Enniskerry,
a theory  none  too rectiline  of the evoluation  of  human  society  and  a
testament of the rocks from all the dead unto some the living. Olivers lambs
we do  call them, skatterlings of a stone, and they shall  be gathered  unto
him, their herd and paladin, as nubilettes to cumule, in that day hwen, same
the lightning lancer  of Azava Arthurhonoured (some Finn, some Finn avant!),
he skall wake from earthsleep, haught crested elmer,  in his valle of briers
of  Greenman's Rise O, (lost leaders live! the heroes  return!) and o'er dun
and  dale  the Wulverulverlord (protect us!) his  mighty  horn  skall  roll,
orland, roll.
     For in those deyes  his Deyus shall ask of Allprohome and call to himm:
Allprohome! And  he make answer: Add some. Nor wink nor wunk. Animadiabolum,
mene credidisti mortuum? Silence  was in thy faustive halls, O Truiga,  when
thy green woods went dry  but there will  be  sounds  of  manymirth  on  the
night's ear ringing  when  our  pantriarch  of  Comestowntonobble  gets  the
pullover on his boots.
     Liverpoor? Sot a bit of it! His braynes coolt parritch, his pelt nassy,
his  heart's  adrone,  his bluidstreams acrawl, his  puff  but  a  piff, his
extremeties  extremely  so:  Fengless, Pawmbroke,  Chilblaimend and Baldowl.
Humph is in  his doge. Words weigh  no  no  more to  him  than raindrips  to
Rethfernhim. Which we all like. Rain. When we sleep.  Drops. But  wait until
our sleeping. Drain. Sdops.

Chapter 4

     As  the  lion,in  our teargarten  remembers the nenuphars  of  his Nile
(shall Ariuz forget Arioun or Boghas the baregams of the  Marmarazalles from
Marmeniere?)  it may  be, tots  wearsense  full  a  naggin  in twentyg  have
sigilposted  what  in our brievingbust,  the  besieged bedreamt him stil and
solely of those lililiths undeveiled which hat undone him, gone for age, and
knew not the watchful treachers at his wake, and theirs to stay. Fooi, fooi,
chamermissies!  Zeepyzoepy,  larcenlads!  Zijnzijn  Zijnzijn! It may be,  we
moest  ons  hasten  selves te declareer  it, that he  reglimmed? presaw? the
fields of heat and yields of wheat where corngold Ysit? shamed and shone. It
may be, we habben to upseek a  bitty  door our good township's courants want
we knew't,  that  with his deepseeing insight (had not wishing  oftebeen but
good time wasted), within his  patriarchal shamanah, broadsteyne 'bove citie
(Twillby! Twillby!) he conscious  of  enemies, a kingbilly whitehorsed in  a
Finglas mill, prayed, as  he sat on anxious seat, (kunt ye neat gift mey toe
bout a peer saft eyballds !)  during that three and a hellof hours' agony of
silence,  ex  profundis  malorum,  and bred with unfeigned  charity that his
wordwounder (an engles to the teeth who, nomened  Nash of Girahash,would  go
anyold where in  the  weeping  world  on  his  mottled  belly (the rab,  the
kreeponskneed!)  for  milk,  music  or  married  missusses)  might,mercy  to
providential benevolence's who hates prudencies' astuteness, unfold into the
first of  a distinguished dynasty of his  posteriors,  blackfaced connemaras
not of the fold but elder children of his  household,  his most besetting of
ideas (  pace  his twolve predamanant  passions) being the formation,  as in
more  favoured  climes, where the Meadow of Honey  is guestfriendly  and the
Mountain  of Joy receives, of  a truly criminal  stratum, Ham's cribcracking
yeggs, thereby at last eliminating from all classes and masses with directly
derivative  decasualisation:   sigarius  (sic!)   vindicat  urbes   terrorum
(sicker!): and so, to  mark  a bank  taal  she arter,  the  obedience of the
citizens elp the ealth of the ole.
     Now gode. Let us leave  theories there and return to  here's here.  Now
hear.  'Tis gode again. The teak  coffin, Pughglasspanelfitted, feets to the
east, was to  turn in later,  and pitly  patly  near the porpus,  materially
effecting  the cause. And  this,  liever,  is the thinghowe. Any  number  of
conservative public bodies, through a number of select  and other committees
having power to add to their  number, before  voting themselves and himself,
town, port and  garrison, by a fit and proper resolution, following a koorts
order of the groundwet, once for all out of plotty existence, as a forescut,
so you maateskippey might to you cuttinrunner on a neuw pack of klerds, made
him,  while  his body  still persisted, their present  of a protem  grave in
Moyelta  of the  best  Lough Neagh pattern,  then as  much  in demand  among
misonesans as the Isle of Man today among limniphobes. Wacht even! It was in
a  fairly  fishy kettlekerry,  after  the  Fianna's  foreman  had  taken his
handful, enriched  with  ancient  woods and dear  dutchy deeplinns mid which
were  an  old knoll  and a troutbeck, vainyvain  of  her osiery and a chatty
sally with any Wilt or Walt who would  ongle her as Izaak did  to the tickle
of his  rod and watch her waters of  her  sillying waters  of and there  now
brown peater arripple  (may  their quilt gild lightly over his somnolulutent
form!) Whoforyou lies his last, by the wrath of Bog, like the erst curst Hun
in the bed of his treubleu Donawhu.
     Best. This  wastohavebeen underground heaven,  or mole's paradise which
was probably also  an inversion of a phallopharos, intended to foster  wheat
crops  and  to  ginger up tourist trade (its architecht,  Mgr Peurelachasse,
having  been  obcaecated  lest he  should petrifake  suchanevver  while  the
contractors  Messrs T. A. Birkett and L.  O. Tuohalls were made invulnerably
venerable)  first in the west,  our  misterbilder, Castlevillainous,  openly
damned and  blasted  by  means  of a  hydromine, system,Sowan  and  Belting,
exploded from a reinvented T.N.T. bombingpost up ahoy of  eleven  and thirty
wingrests (circiter)  to  sternbooard  out  of his  aerial  thorpeto,  Auton
Dynamon, contacted with the expectant minefield by tins of improved  ammonia
lashed  to  her shieldplated gunwale, and  fused into tripupcables, slipping
through  tholse and playing  down  from  the conning tower  into the  ground
battery fuseboxes,  all differing as clocks from keys since  nobody appeared
to  have  the  same  time  of  beard, some  saying by  their  Oorlog it  was
Sygstryggs to nine, more holding with the Ryan vogt it was Dane to pfife. He
afterwards whaanever his blaetther began to fail  off him and his rough bark
was  wholly  husky  and, stoop  by  stoop,  he  neared  it  (wouldmanspare!)
carefully lined the ferroconcrete result  with rotproof bricks  and  mortar,
fassed  to fossed, and  retired beneath the heptarchy of his towerettes, the
beauchamp, byward, bull and lion,  the white, the wardrobe and  bloodied, so
encouraging (insteppen,  alls als hats beliefd!) additional  useful councils
public with hoofd offdealings which were welholden of  ladykants te huur out
such as the Breeders' Union, the Guild of Merchants of the Staple et, a.u.c.
to present unto him  with funebral pomp, over and  above that, a  stone slab
with the usual Mac Pelah address of velediction,  a very fairworded instance
of  falsemeaning  adamelegy:  We  have  done  ours gohellt  with  you,  Heer
Herewhippit, overgiven it, skidoo!
     But t'house and allaboardshoops ! Show coffins, winding sheets, goodbuy
bierchepes,  cinerary  urns,  liealoud  blasses,  snuffchests,  poteentubbs,
lacrimal  vases, hoodendoses,  reekwaterbeckers, breakmiddles, zootzaks  for
eatlust,   including   upyourhealthing   rookworst   and   meathewersoftened
forkenpootsies and for that  matter, javel  also, any kind of  inhumationary
bric au brac for the adornment of his glasstone honophreum, would, met these
trein  of  konditiens,  naturally follow, halas,  in  the  ordinary  course,
enabling that roundtheworlder wandelingswight, did suches  pass him, to live
all safeathomely the presenile days of  his  life of  opulence, ancient  ere
decrepitude,  late lents  last lenience, till stuffering stage, whaling away
the whole of the while (hypnos chilia eonion!) lethelulled between explosion
and reexplosion  (Donnaurwatteur! Hunderthunder!) from grosskopp to megapod,
embalmed, of grand age, rich in death anticipated.
     But  abide  Zeit's sumonserving, rise afterfall.  Blueblitzbolted  from
there,  knowing the hingeworms of the hallmirks of habitationlesness, buried
burrowing in Gehinnon,  to proliferate through all  his Unterwealth, seam by
seam, sheol om sheol, and revisit our Uppercrust Sideria of Utilitarios, the
divine one, the  hoarder hidden propaguting his plutorpopular  progeniem  of
pots and  pans and  pokers and puns from  biddenland  to  boughtenland,  the
spearway fore the spoorway.
     The other  spring  offensive on  the  heights of Abraham may  have come
about all quite by accidence, Foughtarundser (for Breedabrooda had at length
presuaded him to have  himself to be as septuply buried as the murdered Cian
in Finntown), had not been three monads in his watery grave (what vigilantes
and  ridings  then and  spuitwyne  pledges with  aardappel frittling!)  when
portrifaction, dreyfussed as ever, began  to  ramp, ramp, ramp, the boys are
parching.  A  hoodenwinkle gave the signal  and a  blessing  paper freed the
flood. Why did the patrizien make him scares with  his gruntens? Because the
druiven were muskating at the door. From both Celtiberian camps (granting at
the onset  for  the  sake of argument that men on the two sides in New South
Ireland and Vetera Uladh, bluemin and pillfaces, during the ferment With the
Pope  or  On the  Pope,  had,  moors  or letts,  grant  ideas,  grunted) all
conditions,  poor  cons  and  dives mor, each,  of  course,  on  the  purely
doffensive since the  eternals were owlwise on their side every  time,  were
drawn toowards their Bellona's Black Bottom, once Woolwhite's Waltz (Ohiboh,
how becrimed, becursekissed and bedumbtoit!) some for want of proper feeding
in youth, others already caught in the honourable act of slicing careers for
family  and  carvers  in conjunction; and,  if  emaciated nough,  the person
garrotted may have suggested to whomever he took the ham of, the plain being
involved in darkness, low cirque waggery,  nay, even the first old wugger of
himself  in  the flesh, whiggissimus  incarnadined, when falsesighted by the
ifsuchhewas bully on the hill for there  had  circulated freely fairly among
his opposition  the  feeling  that in  so  hibernating  Massa  Ewacka,  who,
previous to  that demidetached life, had been known of barmicidal days, cook
said, between soups  and savours, to get  outside  his own length of rainbow
trout and  taerts  atta  tarn as no man of  woman born, nay could,  like the
great crested brebe, devour his threescoreten of roach per lifeday, ay,  and
as many minnow a minute (the big mix, may  Gibbet choke him !) was, like the
salmon  of  his ladderleap all this time of totality secretly and by suckage
feeding on his own misplaced fat.
     Ladies  did  not  disdain those pagan  ironed  times of the firs;  city
(called  after  the  ugliest  Danadune) when a  frond was a friend inneed to
carry,  as earwigs do their dead,  their soil to the earthball where indeeth
we  shall   calm  decline,  our  legacy   unknown.  Venuses  were  gigglibly
temptatrix, vulcans guffawably eruptious and the whole wives' world frockful
of  fickles. Fact, any human inyon you liked any erenoon or efter would take
her bare  godkin  out, or  an  even pair of  hem, (lugod  ! lugodoo  !)  and
prettily pray with him (or with  em  even) everyhe  to  her taste, long  for
luck, tapette  and tape petter and take pettest of  all. (Tip!) Wells  she'd
woo and wills she's win but how  the deer knowed  where she'd marry! Arbour,
bucketroom, caravan, ditch? Coach, carriage, wheelbarrow, dungcart?
     Kate Strong, a widow (Tiptip!)--she pulls a  lane picture  for us, in a
dreariodreama setting, glowing and very  vidual, of old dumplan as she nosed
it,  a  homelike cottage of  elvanstone  with droppings of biddies, stinkend
pusshies,  moggies' duggies, rotten  witchawubbles,  festering  rubbages and
beggars'  bullets,  if  not worse,  sending salmofarious germs in  gleefully
through  the smithereen panes--Widow  Strong, then, as her weaker had turned
him to  the wall  (Tiptiptip!), did most  all the scavenging from  good King
Hamlaugh's gulden dayne though her lean besom  cleaned but sparingly and her
bare statement reads  that, there being no  macadamised sidetracks on  those
old  nekropolitan  nights  in,  barring  a  footbatter,  Bryant's  Causeway,
bordered  with  speedwell, white clover and  sorrel a wood knows, which left
off,  being beaten,  where  the  plaintiff  was struck,  she  left  down, as
scavengers, who will  be scavengers must, her filthdump  near the Serpentine
in  Phornix  Park  (at  her  time  called  Finewell's  Keepsacre  but  later
tautaubapptossed Pat's Purge), that dangerfield circling butcherswood  where
fireworker oh flaherty  engaged a nutter of castlemallards and ah for archer
stunned's turk,  all over which fossil  footprints, bootmarks,  fingersigns,
elbowdints, breechbowls,  a.  s. o. were  all successively traced  of a most
envolving  description.  What  subtler  timeplace  of  the weald  than  such
wolfsbelly castrament to will hide a leabhar from Thursmen's brandihands  or
a  loveletter, lostfully hers,  that  would  be lust on Ma, than  then  when
ructions ended, than here where race began: and by four hands of forethought
the first  babe of  reconcilement is laid in its last  cradle of hume  sweet
hume.  Give over  it! And  no more of it! So pass the pick for child sake! O
men!
     For hear Allhighest sprack for krischnians as  for propagana fidies and
his nuptial eagles sharped their beaks of prey: and every morphyl man of us,
pome by pome, falls back into this terrine: as  it was  let it be,  says he!
And it is as though where Agni araflammed and Mithra monished and Shiva slew
as mayamutras the obluvial waters of our noarchic memory withdrew, windingly
goharksome,  to some hastyswasty timberman  torchpriest, flamenfan, the ward
of the  wind that lightened the fire that lay in the wood that Jove bolt, at
his rude word. Posidonius O'Fluctuary! Lave that bloody stone as it is! What
are  you doing your dirty minx and his  big treeblock way up your path? Slip
around, you, by the rare of the ministers'! And, you, take  that barrel back
where  you  got  it, Mac  Shane's,  and  go  the  way  your  old  one  went,
Hatchettsbury Road! And gish! how they gushed  away, the pennyfares, a whole
school for  scamper,  with  their sashes  flying  sish behind  them, all the
little pirlypettes! Issy-la-Chapelle! Any lucans, please?
     Yes, the viability of vicinals if invisible is  invincible. And  we are
not trespassing on his corns  either. Look at all the plotsch! Fluminian! If
this was Hannibal's  walk it was Hercules' work.  And a hungried thousand of
the unemancipated slaved the way. The mausoleum lies behind us (O Adgigasta,
multipopulipater!) and there are milestones in their cheadmilias  faultering
along  the  tramestrack  by  Brahm  and  Anton Hermes!  Per omnibus  secular
seekalarum. Amain. But the past has made us this present of a rhedarhoad. So
more boher O'Connell! Though rainyhidden, you're rhinohide.  And if he's not
a Romeo you may scallop your hat. Wereupunder in the fane of Saint Fiacre  !
Halte !
     It was hard by the howe's there, plainly on this disoluded and a buchan
cold spot, rupestric  then,  resurfaced that now is,  that Luttrell sold  if
Lautrill  bought, in the  saddle of the Brennan's  (now Malpasplace?)  pass,
versts and  versts  from true  civilisation, not where  his dreams top their
traums halt (Beneathere! Benathere!)  but  where livland yontide meared with
the wilde, saltlea with flood, that the attackler, a cropatkin, though under
medium  and between colours  with truly native pluck, engaged the  Adversary
who had more  in his eye than was less to his leg but whom for plunder sake,
he mistook in the  heavy  rain to  be  Oglethorpe or some other ginkus, Parr
aparrently,   to   whom   the   headandheelless   chickenestegg  bore   some
Michelangiolesque resemblance, making use of  sacrilegious languages to  the
defect that he would challenge their hemosphores to exterminate  them but he
would  cannonise  the  b  -- y b -- r's life  out of  him  and  lay  him out
contritely  as smart  as  the  b--r  had  his  b--y nightprayers said, three
patrecknocksters and a  couplet of  hellmuirries  (tout  est sacr�  pour  un
sacreur, femme ... barbe ou homme-nourrice) at the same time, so as to plugg
well let the blubbywail  ghoats out of him, catching holst of an  oblong bar
he had and with which he usually broke furnitures he rose the stick  at him.
The   boarder   incident  prerepeated  itself.   The  pair  (whethertheywere
Nippoluono engaging Wei-Ling-Taou or  de Razzkias trying to reconnoistre the
general  Boukeleff,   man  may  not  say),  struggled  apairently  for  some
considerable  time,  (the cradle rocking equally to one  and oppositely from
the other  on  its law of capture  and  recapture),  under  the All In rules
around  the  booksafe,  fighting  like  purple  top  and  tipperuhry  Swede,
(Secremented  Servious of  the Divine  Zeal !)  and in the  course of  their
tussle the toller man, who had opened his bully bowl  to  beg,  said to  the
miner who was  carrying the  worm  (a handy term for the portable distillery
which  consisted  of  three vats, two  jars and  several  bottles  though we
purposely say  nothing of  the stiff, both parties having an interest in the
spirits): Let  me  go, Pautheen! I  hardly  knew  ye. Later  on,  after  the
solstitial pause for refleshmeant,  the same man (or a different and younger
him  of   the  same  ham)  asked   in  the  vermicular  with  a  very  oggly
chew-chin-grin: Was six victolios fifteen pigeon takee offa you, tell he me,
stlongfella,  by picky-pocky ten to foul months behindaside? There were some
further collidabanter and severe tries to convert  for  the best  part of an
hour and now a  woden affair in the shape of a webley (we at  once recognise
our old friend Ned of so many illortemporate letters) fell from the intruser
who, as stuck  as that cat to  that mouse in that tube of  that christchurch
organ, (did the imnage  of  Girl Cloud Pensive flout above  them light young
charm,  in ribbons and  pigtail?) whereupon became friendly and, saying  not
his shirt to tear, to know wanted, joking and knobkerries, all aside laying,
if his change companion who stuck  still to the  invention of his strongbox,
with a tenacity corrobberating their mutual tenitorial  rights,  happened to
have the  loots change  of  a tenpound crickler about  him  at  the  moment,
addling that hap so, he would pay him back the six vics odd, do you see, out
of that for what was taken on the man  of samples last  Yuni or Yuly, do you
follow me, Capn? To this the other, Billi with the Boule, who had mummed and
mauled  up  to  that (for he  was  hesitency  carried  to excelcism)  rather
amusedly replied:  Woowoo  would  you be  grossly surprised, Hill, to  learn
that, as it so happens, I honestly have not such a thing as  the loo, as the
least chance  of  a tinpanned crackler anywhere  about  me  at  the  present
mohomoment but I believe I can see my way, as you suggest, it being Yuletide
or Yuddanfest and as it's mad nuts,  son, for you  when it's hatter's hares,
mon,  for me,  to  advance  you  something like four and  sevenpence between
hopping ar_d trapping  which you might just as well have, boy baches, to buy
J.  J. and S. with.  There  was  a  minute silence  before  memory's  fire's
rekindling and  then. Heart alive  ! Which at very first wind of gay gay and
whiskwigs  wick's  ears pricked up, the starving  gunman,  strike  him pink,
became strangely  calm and forthright sware  by all his lards porsenal  that
the thorntree of sheol  might ramify up his Sheofon to the lux apointlex but
he would go good to him suntime marx my  word fort,  for a chip off the  old
Flint,   (in  the  Nichtian  glossery  which   purveys  aprioric  roots  for
aposteriorious tongues this is nat language at any  sinse  of  the world and
one might as fairly go and kish his sprogues as fail to  certify whether the
wartrophy eluded at  some lives  earlier was  that somethink like a  jug, to
what,  a coctable) and remarxing in  languidoily, seemingly much more highly
pleased than tongue  could tell  at  this  opening  of  a  lifetime and  the
foretaste of  the Dun  Bank pearlmothers and the boy  to wash down  which he
would  feed  to himself in  the Ruadh Cow at Tallaght and then into the Good
Woman at Ringsend and after her inat Conway's Inn at Blackrock and, first to
fall, cursed be  all, where appetite would keenest be, atte, funeral fare or
fun fain  real, Adam and Eve's in Quantity Street by the grace of gamy queen
Tailte, her  will and  testament: You stunning little southdowner!  I'd know
you  anywhere,  Declaney,  let  me  truthfully tell  you in  or  out  of the
lexinction of life and who the hell else, be your blanche patch on the boney
part! Goalball I've struck this daylit dielate night of nights, by golly! My
hat, you  have  some  bully  German  grit,  sundowner! He spud  in his faust
(axin); he toped the raw best (pardun); he poked his pick (a tip is  a tap):
and he tucked his friend's  leave.And, with French hen or the  portlifowlium
of hastes and leisures, about to continue that,the  queer  mixture exchanged
the pax in embrace or poghue puxy as practised between  brothers of the same
breast,  hillelulia, killelulia, allenalaw, and, having  ratified before the
god  of the  day their torgantruce  which belittlers have schmallkalled  the
treatyng to cognac, turning his fez menialstrait in the direction of Moscas,
he first got rid  of a few mitsmillers  and hurooshoos and levanted off with
tubular  jurbulance at  a bull's  run over the  assback bridge,spitting  his
teeths on  rooths,with  the  seven and four in danegeld  and  their  humoral
hurlbat  or  other  uncertain  weapon  of  lignum  vitae,  but  so  evermore
rhumanasant  of  a  toboggan  poop,  picked up  to  keep  some  crowplucking
appointment  with some  rival  rialtos  anywheres between  Pearidge  and the
Littlehorn while this poor delaney, who they left along with the confederate
fender behind and who albeit ballsbluffed, bore up wonderfully wunder all of
it  with  a  whole  number of  plumsized contusiums,  plus  alasalah bruised
coccyx, all over him, reported  the occurance  in the best way he  could, to
the  flabbergaze  of  the  whole lab,  giving the Paddybanners  the military
salute  as  for  his  exilicy's the O'Daffy,  in  justifiable hope  that, in
nobiloroman  review  of  the  hugely   sitisfactuary  conclusium   of  their
negotiations and the jugglemonkysh agripment  deinderivative, some lotion or
fomentation  of  poppyheads would be jennerously exhibited to  the parts, at
the nearest  watchhouse  in Vicar Lane, the  white  ground of his  face  all
covered with digonally redcrossed nonfatal  mammalian blood as proofpositive
of  the seriousness  of his  character  and that  he  was bleeding  in  self
defience  (stanch it!) from  the nostrils, lips, pavilion and  palate, while
some  of  his  hitter's  hairs had been pulled off his  knut's head by  Colt
though  otherwise his allround  health appeared to be  middling along  as it
proved most fortunate that not one of the two hundred and six bones and five
hundred and one muscles in his corso was a whit the whorse for her whacking.
Herwho?
     Nowthen, leaving clashing ash, brawn  and  muscle and brassmade to oust
earthernborn and rockcrystal  to wreck isinglass but wurming along gradually
for our savings backtowards motherwaters so many  miles from bank and Dublin
stone  (olympiading   even  till  the   eleventh   dynasty  to  reach   that
thuddysickend Hamlaugh)  and to the question of boney's unlawfully obtaining
a pierced paraflamme  and claptrap fireguard there crops out the  still more
salient point of the politish leanings and town pursuits of our forebeer, El
Don  De Dunelli, (may his ship thicked stick in the  bottol of the river and
all  his crewsers stock locked in the burral of the seas!) who, when  within
the black of  your toenail,  sir, of being mistakenly ambushed by one of the
uddahveddahs,  and as close as made no  matter, mam, to being kayoed offhand
when the hyougono heckler with the Peter the Painter wanted to hole him, was
consistently  practising  the  first  of  the  primary  and  imprescriptible
liberties of the  pacific subject by circulating (be  British, boys  to your
bellybone  and  chuck  a  chum a chance!) alongst  one of our  umphrohibited
semitary thrufahrts, open  to buggy and bike, to walk, Wellington Park road,
with  the curb  or quaker's quacknostrum under his auxter and his alpenstuck
in his  redhand,  a highly commendable exercise, or, number  two of our acta
legitima  plebeia, on the  brink (beware to  baulk a man  at his  will!)  of
taking place upon a public seat, to what, bare by Butt's, most easterly (but
all goes west!) of blackpool bridges, as a public protest and naturlikevice,
without  intent  to  annoy  either,  being  praisegood  thankfully  for  the
wrathbereaved ringdove  and  the fearstung boaconstrictor and all  the  more
right jollywell pleased, which he was, at having other people's weather.
     But to return to the atlantic and Phenitia  Proper. As if that were not
to be enough for anyone but  little headway, if any, was made in solving the
wasnottobe  crime cunundrum when  a  child of Maam, Festy King, of a  family
long and honourably associated with the tar and feather industries, who gave
an address in old plomansch Mayo  of the Saxons in  the heart of a foulfamed
potheen district, was subsequently haled up at the Old Bailey on the calends
of Mars, under an incompatibly framed indictment of  both  the  counts (from
each  equinoxious points  of view, the  one fellow's  fetch being  the other
follow's  person)  that is to see, flying  cushats out  of his ouveralls and
making  fesses  immodst  his forces  on  the field.  Oyeh!  Oyeh!  When  the
prisoner,   soaked   in  methylated,  appeared  in   dry  dock,   appatently
ambrosiaurealised,  like  Kersse's  Korduroy  Karikature,  wearing,  besides
stains, rents  and  patches, his fight shirt, straw braces, souwester  and a
policeman's corkscrew  trowswers, all out of the true  (as he had  purposely
torn  up all  his  cymtrymanx bespokes  in the mamertime), deposing for  his
exution with all the fluors of sparse in the  royal Irish vocabulary how the
whole padderjagmartin tripiezite suet and all  the sulfeit  of copperas  had
fallen off him quatz unaccountably like the chrystalisations of Alum on Even
while he was trying for to stick fire to himcell, (in feacht he was dripping
as he found upon stripping for a pipkin ofmalt as he feared the coold raine)
it  was  attempted by the  crown (P.C.  Robort)  to show  that  King,  elois
Crowbar,  once known as Meleky,  impersonating  a climbing boy, rubbed  some
pixes  of  any luvial peatsmoor  o'er his  face,  plucks and  pussas, with a
clanetourf  as  the  best  means  of  disguising  himself  and  was  to  the
middlewhite fair in Mudford of  a Thoorsday,  feishts of  Peeler  and  Pole,
under the  illassumed names  of  Tykingfest and Rabworc  picked  by him  and
Anthony out of a  tellafun book, ellegedly  with a pedigree pig (unlicensed)
and  a hyacinth. They were  on that sea by the plain of Ir nine hundred  and
ninetynine  years  and  they  never  cried  crack  or  ceased  from  regular
paddlewicking till that they landed their two and a  trifling selves, amadst
camel  and  ass, greybeard and suckling,  priest and  pauper, matrmatron and
merrymeg, into the  meddle of the  mudstorm.  The gathering, convened by the
Irish Angricultural and  Prepostoral Ouraganisations, to help the Irish muck
to look his brother dane in the face  and attended thanks  to Larry by large
numbers,  of  christies  and  jew's  totems,  tospite  of  the  deluge,  was
distinctly of a scattery kind when the ballybricken he could get no good of,
after cockofthewalking  through  a  few  fancyfought  mains ate some of  the
doorweg,  the  pikey  later selling  the  gentleman  ratepayer  because she,
Francie's sister, that is to say,ate a whole side of his (the animal's) sty,
on a struggle Street, Qui Sta Troia,  in order to pay off, hiss or lick, six
doubloons fifteen arrears of his, the villain's not the rumbler's rent.
     Remarkable evidence  was given, anon,  by  an eye, ear, nose and throat
witness, whom Wesleyan chapelgoers suspected of being a plain clothes priest
W.P., situate at Nullnull, Medical Square, who,  upon  letting down his rice
and peacegreen coverdisk  and having been sullenly cautioned against yawning
while being  grilled, smiled (he had  had a onebumper  at  parting  from Mrs
Molroe  in  the  morning)  and  stated  to  his  eliciter  under  his  morse
mustaccents (gobbless!) that he  slept with a bonafides and that he would be
there  to remember  the filth of November,  hatinaring, rowdy O, which, with
the jiboulees of Juno and the dates of ould  lanxiety, was going, please the
Rainmaker, to decembs  within the ephemerides  of profane history,  all  one
with  Tournay,   Yetstoslay  and   Temorah,   and  one   thing  which  would
pigstickularly strike  a person of such sorely tried observational powers as
Sam, him  and Moffat, though  theirs not to reason why,  the striking  thing
about  it  was that he was patrified to see, hear,  taste  and smell, as his
time of night, how Hyacinth O'Donnell,  B.A., described in the calendar as a
mixer and  wordpainter, with part of a sivispacem (Gaeltact for dungfork) on
the  fair green at  the hour of twenty-four o'clock sought (the bullycassidy
of the friedhoffer!) to sack, sock, stab and  slaughter singlehanded another
two  of  the  old  kings,  Gush  Mac  Gale and  Roaring  O'Crian, Jr.,  both
changelings, unlucalised, of no address and in noncommunicables, between him
and whom, ever  since wallops before the Mise of Lewes, bad blood existed on
the ground of the boer's trespass on the bull or because  he firstparted his
polarbeeber  hair  in  twoways,  or  because  they  were   creepfoxed   andt
grousuppers over  a  nippy  in a  noveletta, or  because they  could not say
meace,  (mute and daft)  meathe. The litigants, he  said, local congsmen and
donalds, kings of the arans and the dalkeys, kings of mud and tory, even the
goat king of Killorglin, were egged on by  their supporters  in the shape of
betterwomen with bowstrung hair of Carrothagenuine ruddiness, waving crimson
petties  and  screaming  from  Isod's  towertop. There  were cries  from the
thicksets in  court and from the macdublins on the bohernabreen of: Mind the
bank from  Banagher, Mick,  sir! Prodooce O'Donner. Ay! Exhibit his  relics!
Bu!  Use  the tongue mor! Give lip less! But it  oozed out in Deadman's Dark
Scenery  Court through crossexanimation of the casehardened testis that when
and  where that knife  of  knifes the treepartied ambush  was  laid (roughly
spouting around half  hours  'twixt  dusk  in dawn,  by  Waterhose's  Meddle
Europeic  Time,  near  Stop  and  Think,  high  chief  evervirens  and  only
abfalltree in auld the land) there  was not as  much light  from the widowed
moon  as  would dim a  child's altar.  The mixer, accordingly,  was  bluntly
broached, and in the best basel  to boot, as  to whether he was one of those
lucky cocks for whom the audible-visible-gnosible-edible world existed. That
he was only too  cognitively  conatively cogitabundantly sure of it because,
living, loving, breathing and sleeping morphomelosophopancreates, as he most
significantly  did, whenever he thought he heard he  saw he felt  he  made a
bell clipperclipperclipperclipper. Whether  he  was  practically sure too of
his lugs and truies names  in this  king and blouseman business? That he was
pediculously so. Certified? As cad could be. Be lying ! Be the lonee I will.
It was Morbus O' Somebody? A'Quite. Szerday's Son? A satyr  in  weddens. And
how did the greeneyed mister arrive at the B.A.? That it was like his  poll.
A crossgrained trapper with murty odd oogs, awflorated  ares, inquiline nase
and  a  twithcherous  mouph?  He would  be.  Who  could  bit  you  att to  a
tenyerdfuul when aastalled? Ballera jobbera. Some  majar bore too?  Iguines.
And with tumblerous legs, redipnominated Helmingham Erchenwyne Rutter Egbert
Crumwall  Odin Maximus  Esme  Saxon  Esa  Vercingetorix  Ethelwulf Rupprecht
Ydwalla  Bentley Osmund  Dysart Yggdrasselmann? Holy  Saint Eiffel, the very
phoenix! It was  Chudley Magnall  once more  between  the deffodates and the
dumb  scene? The two  childspies waapreesing  him  auza  de Vologue but  the
renting of his rock was from the three wicked Vuncouverers Forests bent down
awhits,   arthou  sure?   Yubeti,  Cumbilum  comes!  One   of   the  oxmen's
thingabossers,  hvad? And had  he been refresqued  by the  founts  of bounty
playing there -- is --  a --  pain -- aleland in Long's gourgling  barral? A
loss  of Lordedward and  a  lack of sirphilip  a surgeonet showeradown could
suck  more gargling  bubbles out of the  five lamps in  Portterand's praise.
Wirrgeling  and maries? As whose wouldn't, laving his leaftime in Blackpool.
But, of  course, he could call himself Tem, too, if he had time to? You butt
he  could  anytom. When  he pleased? Win  and place.  A  stoker temptated by
evesdripping aginst the driver who was a witness as well? Sacred avatar, how
the devil did they guess it! Two dreamyums in one dromium? Yes and no error.
And both as like as a duel of lentils? Peacisely.  So he  was  pelted out of
the  coram populo, was  he? Be the  powers  that  be  he  was. The prince in
principel should  not expose  his  person? Macchevuole!  Rooskayman kamerad?
Sooner Gallwegian he would say. Not  unintoxicated, fair witness? Drunk as a
fishup.  Askt to whether she minded whither he smuked? Not if he barkst into
phlegms. Anent his ajaciulations to his Crosscann Lorne, cossa? It was corso
in cursu on coarser again. The  gracious  miss was we not doubt sensible how
yellowatty on the  forx was altered? That she esually was, O'Dowd me not! As
to his religion,  if any?  It was the see-you-Sunday sort.  Exactly  what he
meant by a pederast prig? Bejacob's, just a gent who prayed his lent. And if
middleclassed.  portavorous was a  usual beast? Bynight as useful as a vomit
to a shorn man. If he had rognarised dtheir gcourts marsheyls? Dthat nday in
ndays he had.  Lindendelly, coke or skilllies spell me  gart without a gate?
Harlyadrope.  The grazing  rights (Mrs Magistra Martinetta) expired with the
expiry of the goat's sire, if they were  not mistaken? That he exactly could
not tell  the worshipfuls but his  mother-in-waders  had the recipis for the
price of the coffin  and that he was there to tell them that herself was the
velocipede that could  tell them kitcat. A maundarin tongue in  a  pounderin
jowl?  Father  ourder  about  the  mathers  of  prenanciation.  Distributary
endings? And we recommends. Quare hircum? No answer. Unde gentium fe . . . ?
No  ah. Are you not danzzling on  the age of a vulcano? Siar, I am deed. And
how olld of him? He was intendant to  study pulu. Which was meant in a shirt
of two  shifts macoghamade  or up  Finn, threehatted  ladder? That a head in
thighs  under a  bush at  the  sunface would  bait a serpent  to a  millrace
through  the heather. Arm bird colour defdum ethnic fort perharps? Sure  and
glomsk handy jotalpheson as well. Hokey jasons, then, in a pigeegeeses? On a
pontiff's order as ture as there's an ital on atac. As a gololy bit to joss?
Leally and  tululy.  But, why this hankowchaff and whence  this second tone,
son-yet-sun? He had  the  cowtaw in  his buxers  flay of face. So this  that
Solasistras,  setting odds evens at defiance, took the laud from Labouriter?
What displaced Tob, Dilke  and  Halley,  not been greatly in  love with  the
game. And, changing  the venders,  from the king's head  to the republican's
arms, as  to  the  pugnaxities evinxed from flagfall to  antepost during the
effrays  round  fatherthyme's beckside  and  the  regents  in the  plantsown
raining,  with the skiddystars and the  morkernwindup, how they appealed  to
him  then?  That  it   was  wildfires  night  on  all  the  bettygallaghers.
Mickmichael's  soords   shrieking   shrecks   through   the  wilkinses   and
neckanicholas' toastingforks pricking prongs up the tunnybladders. Let there
be fight?  And there  was.  Foght. On the  site  of the  Angel's, you  said?
Guinney's Gap,  he said, between what they said and the pussykitties. In the
middle of the garth, then? That  they mushn't toucht it. The  devoted couple
was  or  were  only  two  disappainted  solicitresses  on  the  job  of  the
unfortunate class on Saturn's  mountain  fort?  That  was about it, jah! And
Camellus  then  said to Gemellus: I should know you? Parfaitly. And Gemellus
then said to  Camellus:  Yes,  your brother?  Obsolutely. And if  it was all
about that, egregious sir? About that and the other. If he was not  alluding
to the whole in the wall? That he was when he was not eluding from the whole
of  the woman.  Briefly, how such beginall finally struck him  now? Like the
crack that bruck the bank in Multifarnham. Whether he fell in with what they
meant? Cursed that he  suppoxed he  did.  Thos  Thoris,  Thomar's Thom?  The
rudacist  rotter in  Roebuckdom.  Surtopical? And  subhuman. If  it was,  in
yappanoise language, ach bad clap? Oo! Ah! Augs and ohrs with Rhian O'kehley
to put it tertianly, we wrong? Shocking! Such as  turly pearced our really's
that he  might, that he might never, that  he might never that night? Treely
and                                                                 rurally.
Bladyughfoulmoecklenburgwhurawhorascortastrumpapornanennykocksapastippata --
ppatupperstrippuckputtanach, eh? You have it alright.
     Meirdreach an Oincuish ! But a new complexion  was put  upon the matter
when to the perplexedly uncondemnatory bench (whereon punic judgeship strove
with penal law) the senior king of all, Pegger Festy, as soon  as the  outer
layer of stucckomuck  had been removed at the request of a few  live jurors,
declared in a loudburst of  poesy, through his Brythonic interpreter on  his
oath, mhuith peisth  mhuise  as fearra bheura muirre  hriosmas, whereas take
notice be  the  relics  of the bones  of the  story bouchal that was  ate be
Cliopatrick  (the sow) princess  of parked porkers,  afore God and all their
honours  and king's  commons  that, what  he  would swear to the Tierney  of
Dundalgan or any  other Tierney, yif live thurkells  folloged him about sure
that  was no steal  and that,  nevertheless, what  was deposited  from  that
eyebold earbig noseknaving gutthroat, he did not fire  a stone either before
or after he was born down and  up  to  that time. And, incidentalising  that
they might talk about  Markarthy or they might walk to Baalastartey  or they
might  join the nabour party and  come on to Porterfeud this the sockdologer
had  the  neck to endorse with the  head  bowed on him  over  his  outturned
noreaster   by  protesting  to  his   lipreaders   with  a   justbeencleaned
barefacedness,  abeam  of  moonlight's hope, in  the same trelawney what  he
would  impart,  pleas bench. to the  Llwyd Josus and the gentlemen in Jury's
and  the four  of Masterers who  had been all those yarns  yearning for that
good one about why he left Dublin, that, amreeta beaker coddling doom, as an
Inishman was  as good as any  cantonnatal, if he was to parish by the market
steak before the  dorming of  the  mawn, he skuld  never ask to see sight or
light of this  world or the other world or any either  world, of Tyrenan-Og,
as true as  he was  there in that jackabox that minute, or wield or wind (no
thanks  t'yous !) the  inexousthausthible wassailhorn tot  of iskybaush  the
hailth up the wailth of the endknown abgod of the fire of the moving  way of
the hawks with his heroes in Warhorror if ever in all his exchequered career
he up or lave a chancery hand to take or throw the sign of a mortal stick or
stone  at  man,  yoelamb  or salvation  army  either  before or  after being
puptised  down  to  that most holy and every  blessed  hour. Here, upon  the
halfkneed castleknocker's attempting  kithoguishly to lilt his  holymess the
paws and make the sign of the Roman Godhelic faix, (Xaroshie, zdrst!--in his
excitement  the  laddo  had broken  exthro  Castilian  into which the  whole
audience  perseguired  and  pursuited   him  olla  podrida)  outbroke   much
yellachters from owners in the heall (Ha!) in which, under the mollification
of  methaglin,  the testifighter  reluctingly,  but  with ever  so  ladylike
indecorum, joined. (Ha! Ha!)
     The  hilariohoot of Pegger's  Windup  cumjustled  as  neatly  with  the
tristitone  of  the Wet  Pinter's as  were  they  isce  et  ille  equals  of
opposites, evolved by  a onesame power of  nature or of spirit, iste, as the
sole condition and means  of  its himundher manifestation  and polarised for
reunion by  the symphysis  of their  antipathies. Distinctly different  were
their duasdestinies. Whereas the maidies of the bar, (a pairless trentene, a
lunarised score) when the  eranthus myrrmyrred: Show'm the Posed:  fluttered
and  flattered  around the  willingly pressed, nominating him for the swiney
prize, complimenting  him,  the  captivating  youth, on  his having  all his
senses  about him, stincking thyacinths through his curls (O feen! O  deur!)
and bringing busses to his cheeks, their masculine Oirisher Rose (his  neece
cleur!), and legando round his nice  new neck for him and pizzicagnoling his
woolywags, with their dindy dandy sugar de  candy mechree me postheen flowns
courier  to  belive them of all his untiring young  dames and send treats in
their  times.  Ymen.  But  it  was not  unobserved of those  presents, their
worships, how,  of one among all, her deputised  to defeme him  by the Lunar
Sisters'  Celibacy  Club, a lovelooking  leapgirl,  all  all alonely, Gentia
Gemma  of  the  Makegiddyculling  Reeks, he,  wan  and pale  in his  unmixed
admiration, seemed blindly, mutely, tastelessly, tactlessly, innamorate with
heruponhim in shining aminglement, the shaym  of his hisu shifting into  the
shimmering of her hers, (youthsy, beautsy, hee's her chap and  shey'll  tell
memmas when she gays  whom) till  the  wild wishwish of her  sheeshea melted
most musically mid Ihe dark deepdeep of his shayshaun.
     And whereas distracted (for was not just this in effect which  had just
caused that  the  effect  of  that which  it had  caused to occur?) the four
justicers laid their wigs together,  Untius, Muncius, Punchus and Pylax  but
could do  no worse than promulgate their standing verdict  of Nolans Brumans
whereoneafter King,  having murdered all the English he knew, picked out his
pockets and left the tribunal scotfree, trailing his Tommeylommey's tunic in
his hurry, thereinunder proudly showing off the blink  patch to his britgits
to  prove  himself  (an't   plase  yous!)  a  rael  genteel.  To  the  Switz
bobbyguard's  curial  but  courtlike:  Commodore  valley  O   hairy,  Arthre
jennyrosy?: the firewaterloover returted with such a vinesmelling fortytudor
ages rawdownhams tanyouhide  as would  the  latten  stomach even of a tumass
equinous (we were prepared for the chap's clap cap, the accent, but, took us
as, by  surprise and now we're geshing it like gush gash from  a burner!) so
that all the twofromthirty advocatesses within echo, pulling up their briefs
at the krigkry: Shun the Punman!: safely and soundly soccered  that fenemine
Parish Poser, (how dare he!)  umprumptu rightoway hames, much to his thanks,
gratiasagam, to all the wrong donatrices, biss Drinkbattle's Dingy Dwellings
where  (for like your true venuson  Esau he  was dovetimid  as the dears  at
Bottome)  he  shat in (zoo), like the muddy  goalbind who he was (dun),  the
chassetitties belles conclaiming:  You  and  your gift  of your gaft of your
garbage  abaht our Farvver! and gaingridando: Hon!  Verg!  Nau! Putor! Skam!
Schams! Shames!
     And  so it  all  ended. Artha kama dharma moksa. Ask Kavya for the kay.
And  so everybody heard their plaint and all listened  to their plause.  The
letter! The litter! And the soother  the bitther!  Of  eyebrow pencilled, by
lipstipple penned. Borrowing a  word and  begging the question and  stealing
tinder  and slipping like soap. From  dark Rasa Lane a sigh and a weep, from
Lesbia Looshe the beam in her eye, from lone Coogan Barry his arrow of song,
from Sean  Kelly's anagrim a  blush at the name, from I am the Sullivan that
trumpeting  tramp,  from  Suffering  Dufferin  the Sit  of  her Style,  from
Kathleen  May Vernon her  Mebbe  fair  efforts, from Fillthepot  Curran  his
scotchlove machreether,  from  hymn Op. 2  Phil  Adolphos the  weary O,  the
leery, O, from Samyouwill Leaver or Damyouwell Lover thatjolly old molly bit
or  that bored  saunter  by,  from  Timm Finn  again's  weak tribes, loss of
strenghth to  his  sowheel, from the  wedding  on the greene,  agirlies, the
gretnass of joyboys, from Pat  Mullen, Tom Mallon,  Dan Meldon, Don Maldon a
slickstick picnic made  in Moate  by Muldoons. The  solid man saved  by  his
sillied woman.  Crackajolking  away  like a  hearse  on fire. The  elm  that
whimpers at the top told the stone that moans when stricken. Wind broke  it.
Wave bore it. Reed wrote of it. Syce ran with it. Hand tore it and wild went
war. Hen trieved it and plight pledged  peace.  It was folded  with cunning,
sealed with crime,  uptied by a harlot, undone by  a child. It  was life but
was it fair? It  was free but was it art? The old hunks on the  hill read it
to perlection. It made ma make merry and sissy so shy and  rubbed some shine
off Shem and put some shame into Shaun.  Yet  Una and Ita  spill famine with
drought and Agrippa, the propastored, spells tripulations in his threne. Ah,
furchte fruchte, timid Danaides! Ena milo melomon,  frai is frau and swee is
too,  swee  is  two  when  swoo  is  free,  ana  mala woe  is we! A  pair of
sycopanties with amygdaleine eyes, one old  obster lumpky pumpkin and  three
meddlars on their slies. And that was how framm Sin  fromm Son, acity arose,
finfin funfun, a sitting arrows. Now tell me, tell me, tell me then!
     What was it?
     A .......... !
     ? ..........0! So there you are now there they  were, when all was over
again, the  four with them, setting  around upin their judges'  chambers, in
the muniment room, of their marshalsea, under  the suspices of Lally, around
their old traditional tables of the law like  Somany  Solans to talk it over
rallthesameagain. Well and druly dry. Suffering law the dring. Accourting to
king's evelyns.  So help her goat and kiss the bouc. Festives and highajinks
and jintyaun  and  her beetyrossy  bettydoaty  and not to forget now  a'duna
o'darnel. The four of them and  thank court now there were no  more of them.
So pass  the push for port  sake. Be it  soon. Ah ho! And  do you  remember,
Singabob,  the  badfather, the same,  the great Howdoyoucallem, and  his old
nickname,  Dirty Daddy Pantaloons, in his monopoleums, behind the war of the
two  roses, with Michael  Victory, the sheemen's preester,  before he caught
his paper  dispillsation  from the  poke, old Minace and Minster  York? Do I
mind?  I mind  the  gush  off  the  mon  like Ballybock  manure  works on  a
tradewinds day. And the O'Moyly gracies and the O'Briny rossies chaffing him
bluchface  and playing  him pranks. How do you  do, todo,  North Mister? Get
into  my way! Ah dearome  forsailoshe! Gone  over  the bays! When  ginabawdy
meadabawdy!  Yerra, why  would he heed that old  gasometer with his  hooping
coppin and his dyinboosycough and all the birds of the southside after  her,
Minxy Cunningham, their dear divorcee darling, jimmies and jonnies to be her
jo?  Hold  hard. There's three other corners to our isle's cork float. Sure,
'tis well I can telesmell  him  H2 C E3 that would take a township's  breath
away! Gob and I nose him too well as I do meself, heaving up the Kay Wall by
the  32  to  II with  his  limelooking  horsebags  full of  sesameseed,  the
Whiteside Kaffir,  and  his sayman's  effluvium and his  scentpainted voice,
puffing  out his thundering big brown cabbage! Pa! Thawt I'm glad a gull for
his  pawsdeen fiunn! Goborro,  sez  he,  Lankyshied! Gobugga  ye,  sez  I! O
breezes! I sniffed that lad  long  before anyone.  It was  when  I was in my
farfather  out  at  the  west  and  she  and  myself,  the  redheaded  girl,
firstnighting  down  Sycomore  Lane.  Fine  feelplay  we  had  of it mid the
kissabetts  frisking in the kool kurkle dusk of the lushiness. My perfume of
the  pampas, says she  (meaning me) putting  out  her  netherlights, and I'd
sooner  one  precious  sip  at  your  pure  mountain  dew  than   enrich  my
acquaintance with that big brewer's belch.
     And  so they  went  on, the fourbottle men,  the analists,  unguam  and
nunguam and lunguam again, their  anschluss  about  her whosebefore  and his
whereafters  and how  she  was  lost  away away in the fern  and how  he was
founded deap on deep in anear, and the rustlings and the twitterings and the
raspings  and the  snappings  and  the sighings and  the  paintings  and the
ukukuings  and  the   (hist!)  the  springapartings  and  the   (hast!)  the
bybyscuttlings  and all the scandalmunkers  and the pure craigs that used to
be (up) that time  living and  lying  and rating  and riding round Nunsbelly
Square.  And all  the  buds  in the bush.  And the laughing  jackass. Harik!
Harik! Harik! The  rose is  white  in the darik! And Sunfella's nose has got
rhinoceritis  from haunting the roes  in  the parik! So all  rogues  lean to
rhyme. And contradrinking themselves about Lillytrilly law pon hilly and Mrs
Niall of the  Nine Corsages and the old markiss their besterfar, and, arrah,
sure there was  never a marcus at all at all among  the manlies and dear Sir
Armoury, queer Sir  Rumoury, and the old  house by the  churpelizod, and all
the goings on so very  wrong long before when they were going on retreat, in
the old  gammeldags, the four of them, in Milton's  Park under lovely Father
Whisperer and making her love with his stuffstuff in the languish of flowers
and feeling to find was she mushymushy, and wasn't  that vely both of  them,
the saucicissters, a drahereen o machree !, and (peep !) meeting waters most
improper (peepette!)  ballround the garden, trickle trickle  trickle  triss,
please, miman, may I go flirting? farmers  gone  with a  groom and  how they
used her, mused  her, licksed her and  cuddled. I differ  with  ye ! Are you
sure of yourself  now?  You're a liar,  excuse me!  I  will  not  and you're
another!  And  Lully holding their breach of the peace for them.  Pool  loll
Lolly!  To give  and  to  take!  And to forego  the  pasht!  And all will be
forgotten! Ah ho! It was too too bad to  be falling  out  about her kindness
pet and the shape of O O O O  O O O O Ourang's time. Well, all right, Lelly.
And shakeahand. And schenkusmore. For Craig sake. Be it suck.
     Well?
     Well, even should not the framing up of such figments in the evidential
order bring the true truth to  light as fortuitously as a dim seer's setting
of  a  starchart  might (heaven  helping  it!)  uncover  the nakedness of an
unknown body in the fields of blue or as forehearingly as the sibspeeches of
all  mankind  have  foliated (earth seizing  them!)  from the  root  of some
funner's  stotter all the soundest sense  to  be found  immense  our special
mentalists now  holds (securus  iudicat orbis terrarum) that by such playing
possum  our  hagious  curious  encestor bestly  saved  his  brush  with  his
posterity, you, charming coparcenors,  us, heirs of  his tailsie. Gundogs of
all breeds were beagling with renounced urbiandorbic bugles, hot to run him,
given  law,  on a scent breasthigh, keen for the worry. View! From his  holt
outratted across the Juletide's  genial corsslands of  Humfries  Chase  from
Mullinahob  and  Peacockstown,  then bearing right  upon  Tankardstown,  the
outlier, a white noelan which  Mr Loewensteil Fitz Urse's basset beaters had
first  misbadgered for  a  bruin of some  swart,  led bayers the  run,  then
through Raystown  and  Horlockstown and, louping  the loup,  to Tankardstown
again. Ear canny  hare  for  doubling through Cheeverstown they  raced  him,
through  Loughlinstown and Nutstown to wind him by the Boolies. But from the
good turn when he last was lost,  check, upon Ye Hill of Rut in  full winter
coat with ticker pads, pointing for his rooming house his old nordest in his
rolltoproyal  hessians a deaf fuchser's  volponism hid him close in  covert,
miraculously  ravenfed  and  buoyed  up,  in  rumer,  reticule,  onasum  and
abomasum, upon (may Allbrewham have his mead!) the  creamclotted  sherriness
of  cinnamon  syllabub,  Mikkelraved, Nikkelsaved.  Hence hounds  hied home.
Preservative perseverance  in  the  reeducation  of his intestines  was  the
rebuttal  by  whilk he sort of git  the big  bulge on  the  whole  bunch  of
spasoakers, dieting  against glues and gravies,  in  that sometime prestreet
protown. Vainly violence, virulence and vituperation sought wellnigh utterly
to  attax and  abridge, to  derail  and depontify, to enrate and  inroad, to
ongoad and unhume the great shipping mogul and underlinen overlord.
     But  the spoil  of hesitants, the spell of  hesitency. His  atake is it
ashe,  tittery  taw  tatterytail,  hasitense  humponadimply, heyheyheyhey  a
winceywencky.
     Assembly men murmured. Reynard is slow!
     One feared for his days. Did there yawn? 'Twas his stommick. Eruct? The
libber. A  gush? From his visuals.  Pung? Delivver him, orelode! He had laid
violent hands on himself, it was brought in  Fugger's Newsletter, lain down,
all  in,fagged out,  with  equally melancholy  death.  For  the  triduum  of
Saturnalia  his goatservant had  paraded hiz  willingsons in the Forum while
the  jenny infanted the lass to  be greeted  raucously (the Yardstated) with
houx and epheus and measured with missiles too from a hundred of manhood and
a  wimmering of weibes.  Big  went  the  bang:  then wildewide  was quiet: a
report:  silence: last  Fama put  it under ether. The  noase or the loal had
dreven  him  blem,  blem, stun blem. Sparks  flew.  He had fled  again (open
shunshema!)  this   country  of  exile,  sloughed  off,sidleshomed  via  the
subterranean shored  with  bedboards, stowed  away and  ankered  in  a dutch
bottom tank, the Arsa, hod S.S. Finlandia, and was even now occupying, under
an  islamitic newhame in his seventh  generation,  a physical body Cornelius
Magrath's  (badoldkarakter,  commonorrong canbung)  in Asia Major, where  as
Turk of the theater (first house all flatty: the king, eleven sharps) he had
bepiastered the buikdanseuses from the opulence of his omnibox while as arab
at  the  streetdoor  he  bepestered the bumbashaws for the  alms of a para's
pence.  Wires   hummed.   Peacefully   general   astonishment  assisted   by
regrettitude had put a term till his  existence: he saw the family saggarth,
resigned, put off his remainders, was recalled and scrapheaped by the Maker.
Chirpings  crossed.  An  infamous  private ailment  (vulgovarioveneral)  had
claimed  endright,  closed his  vicious  circle,  snap. Jams jarred.  He had
walked  towards the middle of an ornamental lilypond when innebriated up  to
the point where braced  shirts meet  knickerbockers,  as wangfish daring the
buoyant  waters,  when rodmen's firstaiding hands had rescued  un from  very
possibly several feel of  demifrish  water. Mush spread. On  Umbrella Street
where  he did drinks  from a pumps a kind workman,  Mr  Whitlock, gave him a
piece of wood. What words of power were made  fas between them, ekenames and
auchnomes, acnomina ecnumina? That, O  that, did  Hansard tell us, would gar
ganz Dub's ear  wag in every pub  of all the  citta! Batty  believes a baton
while Hogan hears a hod yet Heer prefers a punsil  shapner and Cope and Bull
go cup and ball. And the  Cassidy--Craddock rome and reme round e'er a wiege
ne'er  a waage is still immer and immor  awagering over it,a  cradle with  a
care in it or  a casket with a kick behind. Toties testies quoties questies.
The war is in words and the wood is the world. Maply me, willowy we, hickory
he and  yew  yourselves. Howforhim  chirrupeth evereachbird!  From  golddawn
glory to glowworm gleam. We were lowquacks did we not  tacit  turn. Elsewere
there  here no concern of the Guinnesses.  But  only the ruining of the rain
has  heard.  Estout pourporteral ! Cracklings  cricked. A human pest cycling
(pist!) and recycling (past!) about the  sledgy streets, here he was (pust!)
again! Morse nuisance noised. He was loose at large  and (Oh baby!) might be
anywhere when a disguised exnun, of huge standbuild and masculine manners in
her  fairly  fat  forties,  Carpulenta  Gygasta,  hattracted  hattention  by
harbitrary conduct  with a homnibus. Aerials  buzzed to coastal listeners of
an oertax bror collector's budget, fullybigs, sporran, tie, tuft, tabard and
bloody antichill cloak, its  tailor's  (Baernfather's) tab  reading  V.P.H.,
found  nigh Scaldbrothar's Hole,  and divers shivered to think what kaind of
beast,  wolves, croppis's or fourpenny friars, had devoured him.  C. W. cast
wide.  Hvidfinns  lyk,  drohneth  svertgleam, Valkir lockt. On his pinksir's
postern, the boys had it, at Whitweekend had been nailed an inkedup name and
title,   inscribed  in  the  national  cursives,  accelerated,   regressive,
filiform, turreted and envenomoloped in piggotry: Move up. Mumpty! Mike room
for Rumpty! By  order, Nickekellous Plugg; and this go,  no pentecostal jest
about  it, how gregarious  his  race soever or skilful learned  wise cunning
knowledgable clear profound his saying fortitudo fraught or prudentiaproven,
were he  chief,  count,  general, fieldmarshal,  prince, king or  Myles  the
Slasher  in his person, with a moliamordhar mansion  in the Breffnian empire
and  a place of inauguration on the hill of Tullymongan, there had been real
murder, of the rayheallach royghal raxacraxian variety, the  MacMahon chaps,
it  was, that had done him in.  On the fidd of Verdor the rampart combatants
had left him lion with his dexter handcoup wresterected  in a pureede paumee
bloody proper. Indeed not  a few thick and thin  wellwishers, mostly of  the
clontarfminded  class, (Colonel  John  Bawle  O'Roarke,  fervxamplus),  even
ventured  so  far as  to  loan  or beg  copies  of D.  Blayncy's  trilingual
triweekly,  Scatterbrains' Aftening Posht,so as to make certain sure onetime
and   be  satisfied  of   their  quasicontribusodalitarian's  having  become
genuinely quite  beetly dead  whether  by land whither by water.  Transocean
atalaclamoured him; The latter! The latter!  Shall their hope then be silent
or  Macfarlane  lack of lamentation?  He  lay under leagues  of  it  in deep
Bartholoman's Deep.
     Achdung! Pozor! Attenshune! Vikeroy Besights Smucky Yung Pigeschoolies.
Tri  Paisdinernes  Eventyr  Med   Lochlanner  Fathach   I   Fiounnisgehaven.
Bannalanna Bangs Ballyhooly Out Of Her Buddaree Of A Bullavogue.
     But,  their  bright  little  contemporaries  notwithstanding,  on   the
morrowing morn of the suicidal murder of the unrescued expatriate, aslike as
asnake comes sliduant down that  oaktree onto the  duke of beavers, (you may
have  seen  some   liquidamber   exude  exotic   from  a  balsam  poplar  at
Parteen-a-lax Limestone. Road and cried Abies Magnifica! not, noble  fir?) a
quarter  of nine,  imploring his  resipiency, saw the  infallible  spike  of
smoke's jutstiff punctual from the seventh gable of our Quintus Centimachus'
porphyroid buttertower and then thirsty p.m. with oaths upon his lastingness
(En  caecos harauspices ! Annos  longos patimur !) the lamps of maintenance,
beaconsfarafield  innerhalf  the  zuggurat,  all  brevetnamed,  the  wasting
wyvern, the tawny of his  mane, the swinglowswaying bluepaw, the outstanding
man, the  lolllike  lady,  being  litten  for the long  (O land, how  long!)
lifesnight, with suffusion of fineglass transom and leadlight panes.
     Wherefore let it hardly by any being thinking be said either or thought
that the prisoner of that sacred edifice, were he an Ivor the Boneless or an
Olaf the Hide, was at his  best a onestone  parable, a rude breathing on the
void  of to be, a venter hearing his own bauchspeech in backwords, or,  more
strictly,  but  tristurned initials, the cluekey to  a worldroom beyond  the
roomwhorld,  for  scarce  one,  or  pathetically  few  of  his   dode  canal
sammenlivers  cared seriously or for long  to doubt with Kurt Iuld van Dijke
(the gravitational pull perceived by certain fixed residents and the capture
of  uncertain  comets  chancedrifting  through  our  system   suggesting  an
authenticitatem  of his aliquitudinis) the canonicity of  his existence as a
tesseract. Be still, O quick! Speak him dumb! Hush ye fronds of Ulma!
     Dispersal women wondered. Was she fast?
     Do  tell  us all about. As we want to hear  allabout. So tellus  tellas
allabouter. The why or whether she looked alottylike like ussies and whether
he had his wimdop like themses shut? Notes and queries, tipbids and answers,
the laugh and the shout,  the ards and downs. Now listed to one aneither and
liss them down and smoothen out your leaves of rose. The war is o'er. Wimwim
wimwim!  Was it Unity  Moore  or  Estella Swifte  or  Varina Fay  or  Quarta
Quaedam?  Toemaas, mark oom for yor ounckel! Pigeys,  hold  op med  yer leg!
Who, but who (for second time of asking) was then the  scourge  of the parts
about folkrich  Lucalizod it was wont to be asked, as, in ages behind of the
Homo Capite  Erectus,  what  price Peabody's money,  or,  to put it bluntly,
whence  is the herringtons' white cravat,  as, in epochs more cainozoic, who
struck  Buckley though nowadays as thentimes every schoolfilly of sevenscore
moons  or  more who  knowher  intimologies and  every colleen bawl aroof and
every redflammelwaving  warwife  and  widowpeace  upon  Dublin Wall for ever
knows as yayas is yayas how it was Buckleyself (we need no blooding paper to
tell it neither)  who struck and  the Russian generals, da!  da!, instead of
Buckley who was caddishly struck by him  when be herselves.  What  fullpried
paulpoison in the spy of three castles or which hatefilled smileyseller? And
that  such  a  vetriol of  venom,  that queen's head affranchisant, a  quiet
stinkingplaster zeal could cover, prepostered or postpaid! The loungelizards
of  the  pumproom  had  their  nine  days'  ~er,  and  pratschkats at  their
platschpails  too  and   holenpolendom   beside,  Szpaszpas  Szpissmas,  the
zhanyzhonies,  when, still believing in her  owenglass,  when  izarres  were
twinklins, that the upper reaches of her mouthless face  and her impermanent
waves were the better half of her,  one nearer him,  dearer  than all, first
warming  creature of his early morn, bondwoman of the man of the  house, and
murrmurr of all the mackavicks, she who had given his eye  for her bed and a
tooth for a child till one one and one ten and one hundred again, O me and O
ye !  cadet and prim, the hungray and anngreen (and if she is older now than
her  teeth she has  hair that is younger than thighne,  my  dear!)  she  who
shuttered him after his fall and waked him widowt sparing and gave  him keen
and  made him able and held adazillahs to each arche  of  his noes, she  who
will  not  rast her from  her running to seek him till, with the help of the
okeamic, some such time  that she shall have been after hiding the crumbends
of his enormousness in the  areyou lookingfor Pearlfar sea, (ur, uri, uria!)
stood forth, burnzburn  the gorggony  old danworld,  in  gogor's  name,  for
gagar's  sake, dragging  the countryside in her  train,  finickin  here  and
funickin there, with her louisequean's brogues and  her culunder  buzzle and
her litde  bolero boa and  all  and  two times  twenty  curlicornies for her
headdress, specks  on her  eyeux,  and  spudds on horeilles and  a circusfix
riding her Parisienne's  cockneze, a  vaunt her straddle from Equerry  Egon,
when Tinktink in  the churchclose clinked Steploajazzyma  Sunday, Sola, with
pawns, prelates  and  pookas pelotting in  her  piecebag,  for  Handiman the
Chomp, Esquoro, biskbask, to crush the slander's head.
     Wery weeny wight, plead for Morandmor! Notre Dame de la Ville, mercy of
thy  balmheartzyheat! Ogrowdnyk's  beyond  herbata tay, wort of the drogist.
Bulk him no bulkis. And let him rest, thou  wayfarre, and take no gravespoil
from him! Neither mar his mound! The bane of Tut is on it. Ware! But there's
a little lady waiting and her name  is A.L.P. And you'll agree.  She must be
she. For her holden heirheaps hanging down  her back.  He spenth his strenth
amok  haremscarems. Poppy Narancy, Giallia, Chlora, Marinka, Anileen, Parme.
And ilk a those dames had her rainbow huemoures yet for whilko her whims but
he  coined  a  cure.  Tifftiff  today, kissykissy  tonay  and  agelong  pine
tomauranna.  Then  who   but  Crippled-with-Children  would  speak   up  for
Dropping-with-Sweat?

     Sold him her lease of ninenineninetee,
     Tresses undresses so dyedyedaintee,
     Goo, the groot gudgeon, gulped it all.
     Hoo was the C. O. D.?
     Bum !

     At Island Bridge she met her tide.
     Attabom, attabom, attabombomboom!
     The Fin had a flux and his Ebba a ride.
     Attabom, attabom, attabombomboom!
     We're all up to the years in hues and cribies.
     That's what she's done for wee!
     Woe!

     Nomad may roam with  Nabuch but let naaman laugh at Jordan! For  we, we
have taken our sheet upon her  stones where we have hanged our hearts in her
trees; and we list, as she bibs us, by the waters of babalong.

Chapter 5

     In the  name  of  Annah the Allmaziful, the Everliving,  the Bringer of
Plurabilities, haloed  be  her  eve,  her  singtime  sung, her  rill be run,
unhemmed as it is uneven!
     Her  untitled mamafesta  memorialising the Mosthighest has gone by many
names at  disjointed times. Thus we hear of, The  Augusta Angustissimost for
Old  Seabeastius'  Salvation, Rockabill Booby  in the Wave Trough, Here's to
the Relicts  of  All  Decencies,  Anna Stessa's Rise to Notice, Knickle Down
Duddy Gunne  and Arishe Sir Cannon,  My Golden  One and My  Selver  Wedding,
Amoury  Treestam  and  Icy  Siseule,  Saith  a Sawyer til  a  Strame, Ik dik
dopedope et tu mihimihi, Buy Birthplate for a Bite, Which of your Hesterdays
Mean Ye  to Morra? Hoebegunne the Hebrewer Hit Waterman the Brayned, Arcs in
His  Ceiling  Flee  Chinx  on  the Flur,  Rebus  de  Hibernicis, The Crazier
Letters, Groans of  a  Britoness, Peter Peopler  Picked a Plot to  Pitch his
Poppolin,  An Apology  for a Big (some such  nonoun as Husband or husboat or
hosebound is  probably understood  for  we have also the plutherplethoric My
Hoonsbood Hansbaad's  a Journey to  Porthergill  gone  and He Never  Has the
Hour), Ought  We  To  Visit Him? For  Ark  see  Zoo,  Cleopater's  Nedlework
Ficturing Aldborougham  on the Sahara with the  Coombing of the Cammmels and
the Parlourmaids  of Aegypt, Cock in the Pot  for Father, Placeat Vestrae, A
New Cure for an Old Clap, Where Portentos they'd Grow Gonder how I'd Wish  I
Woose  a  Geese; Gettle Nettie, Thrust him not,  When the  Myrtles of Venice
Played  to Bloccus's Line, To Plenge Me High He  Waives Chiltern on Friends,
Oremunds Queue Visits  Amen  Mart, E'en Tho'  I Granny a-be He would Fain Me
Cuddle, Twenty of Chambers, Weighty  Ten Beds and a Wan Ceteroom, I Led  the
Life, Through the Boxer Coxer Rising in the House with  the  Golden  Stairs,
The Following  Fork, He's my O'Jerusalem  and I'm  his Po, The Best  in  the
West, By the Stream  of  Zemzem  under  Zigzag  Hill, The Man That Made  His
Mother  in the Marlborry Train, Try Our Taal on a Taub, The  Log of Anny  to
the Base All,  Nopper Tipped a Nappiwenk to his Notylytl Dantsigirls, Prszss
Orel  Orel  the  King  of  Orlbrdsz,  Intimier  Minnelisp  of  an  Extorreor
Monolothe, Drink to Him, My Juckey, and Dhoult Bemine Thy Winnowing Sheet, I
Ask  You  to  Believe  I was  his Mistress, He Can  Explain,  From Victrolia
Nuancee to  Allbart Noahnsy, Da's a Daisy so Guimea  your Handsel  too, What
Barbaras Done to a Barrel Organ Before the Rank, Tank  and Bonnbtail, Huskvy
Admortal,  What Jumbo  made  to Jalice and  what Anisette to Him,  Ophelia's
Culpreints, Hear Hubty Hublin, My  Old Dansh, I am Older northe Rogues among
Whisht  I  Slips  and  He  Calls  Me   his  Dual  of  Ayessha,  Suppotes   a
Ventriliquorst  Merries a Corpse, Lapps for Finns This Funnycoon's Week, How
the Buckling Shut at Rush in January, Look to the Lady, From the Rise of the
Dudge Pupublick to the Fall of the Potstille, Of the Two Ways of Opening the
Mouth, I  have  not  Stopped Water Where  It  Should  Flow  and  I  Know the
Twentynine Names of Attraente, The Tortor of Tory Island Traits Galasia like
his Milchcow, From Abbeygate to Crowalley Through a Lift in the Lude, Smocks
for  Their  Graces and  Me Aunt for  Them Clodshoppers, How to  Pull a  Good
Horuscoup even when Oldsire is Dead to the World, Inn the Gleam of Waherlow,
Fathe He's Sukceded to My  Esperations, Thee Steps Forward, Two  Stops Back,
My Skin Appeals to Three Senses and My  Curly Lips Demand Columbkisses; Gage
Street on a Crany's  Savings, Them  Lads made a Trion of Battlewatschers and
They Totties a Doeit of Deers, In My  Lord's Bed  by  One Whore Went Through
It,  Mum  It  is All Over, Cowpoyride by Twelve Acre  Terriss  in the Unique
Estates of Amessican, He Gave me a Thou so I serve Him with Thee, Of all the
Wide  Torsos in all  the Wild Glen, O'Donogh,  White Donogh, He's Hue to  Me
Cry, I'm the Stitch in his Baskside You'd be Nought Without Mom, To Keep the
Huskies  off  the  Hustings and Picture  Pets from  Lifting  Shops,  Norsker
Torsker  Find  the  Poddle,  He  Perssed  Me  Here  with  the  Ardour  of  a
Tonnoburkes, A  Boob Was Weeping This Mower was Reaping, O'Loughlin, Up from
the Pit of  my Stomach I  Swish you the White of  the Mourning, Inglo-Andeen
Medoleys from Tommany  Moohr,  The Great Polynesional  Entertrainer Exhibits
Ballantine Brautchers with the Link of Natures, The Mimic of Meg Neg end the
Mackeys,   Entered   as   the  Lastest   Pigtarial  and  My  Pooridiocal  at
Stitchioner's Hall, Siegfield  Follies and or a  Gentlehomme's Faut Pas, See
the  First Book of Jealesies  Pessim, The Suspended Sentence, A Pretty Brick
Story for Childsize Heroes, As Lo Our Sleep, I Knew I'd Got it in Me so Thit
settles That,  Thonderbalt Captain Smeth and La Belle Sauvage  Pocahonteuse,
Way for Wet Week Welikin's Douchka Marianne, The Last of the Fingallians, It
Was Me  Egged  Him on to the Stork Exchange and Lent  my Dutiful Face to His
Customs,  Chee  Chee  Cheels on  their  China  Miction,  Pickedmeup  Peters,
Lumptytumtumpty had a Big Fall, Pimpimp Pimpimp, Measly Ventures of Two Lice
and the Fall of Fruit,  The Fokes Family Interior, If my Spreadeagles Wasn't
so Tight  I'd  Loosen  my  Cursits  on that Bunch of Maggiestraps, Allolosha
Popofetts and  Howke  Cotchme  Eye, Seen  Aples  and Thin Dyed, i  big U  to
Beleaves from Love and Mother, Fine's Fault was no Felon, Exat Delvin Renter
Life,The Flash that Flies from Vuggy's Eyes has Set Me  Hair On Fire, His is
the  House that Malt Made,  Divine Views from Back to the Front, Abe to Sare
Stood Icyk Neuter till Brahm  Taulked Him Common Sex, A Nibble  at  Eve Will
That  Bowal Relieve, Allfor Guineas, Sounds and Compliments  Libidous, Seven
Wives Awake Aweek,  Airy Ann and  Berber Blut,  Amy Licks Porter While Huffy
Chops Eads, Abbrace of Umbellas or a Tripple of Caines, Buttbutterbust, From
the  Manorlord Hoved to the Misses  O'Mollies and  from the Dames  to  their
Sames, Manyfestoons for the Colleagues on the Green, An Outstanding Back and
an Excellent Halfcentre if Called on, As Tree is Quick and Stone is White So
ts My Washing Done by Night,  First and Last Only True Account au  about the
Honorary Mirsu Earwicker, L.S.D., and the Snake (Nuggets!) by a Woman of the
World  who  only  can  Tell  Naked  Truths  about  a  Dear  Man and  all his
Conspirators how they all Tried to Fall  him Putting it all around Lucalizod
about Privates Earwicker and a Pair  of Sloppy Sluts plainly Showing all the
Unmentionability falsely Accusing about the Raincoats.
     The proteiform graph itself  is a polyhedron  of scripture. There was a
time  when  naif  alphabetters would have written  it down the  tracing of a
purely  deliquescent recidivist, possibly  ambidextrous,  snubnosed probably
and presenting a strangely profound rainbowl in his (or her) occiput. To the
hardily  curiosing  entomophilust  then it  has  shown a  very sexmosaic  of
nymphosis in which the eternal chimerahunter Oriolopos, now frond of sugars,
then  lief of saults, the sensory crowd in his belly coupled with an eye for
the goods trooth bewilderblissed  by  their night  effluvia  with guns  like
drums and fondlers like forceps persequestellates his vanessas from flore to
flore.  Somehows  this  sounds  like  the  purest  kidooleyoon  wherein  our
madernacerution  of lour lore  is  rich.  All's so  herou from  us him in  a
kitchernott darkness, by hasard and worn rolls arered, we must grope on till
Zerogh  hour like pou owl giaours as we  are would we salve aught of moments
for our aysore today.  Amousin  though  not  but.  Closer inspection of  the
bordereau  would  reveal a multiplicity of  personalities  inflicted  on the
documents or document and some prevision of virtual crime or crimes might be
made by anyone unwary enough before any suitable occasion for it or them had
so far  managed to  happen  along. In  fact,  under the  closed  eyes of the
inspectors   the   traits  featuring   the   chiaroscuro   coalesce,   their
contrarieties  eliminated,  in  one  stable  somebody  similarly  as  by the
providential  warring of heartshaker  with housebreaker  and of  dramdrinker
against freethinker our social something bowls along bumpily, experiencing a
jolting series of  prearranged disappointments, down the  long lane of (it's
as semper  as  oxhousehumper! generations, more  generations and still  more
generations.
     Say, baroun lousadoor, who  in hallhagal  wrote the  durn thing anyhow?
Erect,  beseated,  mountback, against a partywall, below freezigrade, by the
use  of  quill  or  style, with turbid or pellucid  mind, accompanied or the
reverse by mastication, interrupted by visit of seer to scribe or  of scribe
to site, atwixt  two showers  or  atosst of  a trike, rained  upon or  blown
around,  by  a rightdown regular  racer  from  the soil or by a  too  pained
whittlewit laden with the loot of learning?
     Now, patience; and remember patience is the great thing, and  above all
things else we must avoid anything like being or becoming out of patience. A
good plan used by worried business folk who  may not have had many momentums
to  master Kung's  doctrine of  the meang or  the  propriety codestruces  of
Carprimustimus  is  just  to  think  of  all  the sinking fund  of  patience
possessed  in  their conjoint  names  by both  brothers  Bruce with whom are
incorporated their Scotch  spider  and Elberfeld's  Calculating  Horses.  If
after years  upon years of delving in ditches dark  one tubthumper more than
others, Kinihoun or Kahanan, giardarner  or mear measenmanonger,  has got up
for the darnall  same purpose of reassuring  us  with all the  barbar of the
Carrageehouse that our great ascendant was properly speaking three syllables
less than his own surname (yes, yes, less!), that the ear of Fionn Earwicker
aforetime was the trademark of a broadcaster with wicker local jargon for an
ace's  patent  (Hear! Calls!  Everywhair!) then as to  this radiooscillating
epiepistle  to  which, cotton, silk or samite, kohol,  gall or brickdust, we
must ceaselessly  return, whereabouts exactly at  present in Siam,  Hell  or
Tophet under  that glorisol  which plays touraloup with  us in this Aludin's
Cove of our cagacity is that bright soandsuch to slip us the dinkum oil?
     Naysayers  we  know. To  conclude  purely negatively from  the positive
absence of  political odia and monetary requests that its  page cannot  ever
have been  a penproduct  of a man or woman of that period  or those parts is
only  one  more  unlookedfor  conclusion  leaped  at,  being  tantamount  to
inferring  from  the  nonpresence  of   inverted  commas  (sometimes  called
quotation marks) on any page  that its  author  was always  constitutionally
incapable of misappropriating the spoken words of others.
     Luckily there is another cant  to the  questy. Has any fellow,  of  the
dime a dozen  type,  it might with some profit  some dull evening quietly be
hinted--has  any usual sort  of ornery josser, flatchested fortyish, faintly
flatulent and  given to ratiocination by syncopation in  the elucidation  of
complications,of his greatest  Fung Yang dynasdescendanced,only  another the
son of, in fact, ever  looked sufficiently longly at a quite everydaylooking
stamped addressed envelope? Admittedly it is an outer husk: its face, in all
its featureful perfection of imperfection, is  its fortune: it exhibits only
the  civil  or  military  clothing  of  whatever  passionpallid  nudity   or
plaguepurple nakedness may happen  to  tuck  itself under  its flap.  Yet to
concentrate solely on the literal sense or even the psychological content of
any  document  to  the  sore neglect  of  the  enveloping  facts  themselves
circumstantiating it is just as hurtful to sound sense (and  let it be added
to the truest taste)  as were some fellow  in  the act of perhaps getting an
intro from another fellow turning out to be a friend in need of his, say, to
a lady of  the latter's  acquaintance, engaged in performing the elaborative
antecistral ceremony  of upstheres, straightaway to run off  and vision  her
plump  and  plain  in  her  natural  altogether,  preferring  to  close  his
blinkhard's  eyes to the ethiquethical fact that she was, after all, wearing
for the space of  the time  being  some  definite  articles of  evolutionary
clothing, inharmonious creations, a  captious critic might describe them as,
or not strictly necessary or a trifle irritating here and there, but for all
that suddenly full of local colour and personal perfume and suggestive, too,
of so very much more and capable of  being stretched, filled out, if need or
wish  were, of  having their surprisingly like coincidental  parts separated
don't they now, for  better survey by the deft  hand of an expert, don't you
know? Who in his  heart doubts either that the facts of feminine clothiering
are  there all  the time or  that the  feminine fiction,  stranger than  the
facts, is  there also at the same time, only  a little  to the rere? Or that
one  may be separated from the  other? Or that both may then be contemplated
simultaneously?  Or that each  may be taken up and considered in turn  apart
from the other?
     Here let a few artifacts fend in  their  own favour. The river felt she
wanted salt.  That  was  just where  Brien  came  in.  The country asked for
bearspaw for dindin! And boundin aboundin it got it surly. We who live under
heaven, we  of the clovery  kingdom, we middlesins people have often watched
the sky  overreaching  the land.  We suddenly have.  Our isle is Sainge. The
place.  That stern chuckler Mayhappy Mayhapnot,  once said to  repeation  in
that lutran conservatory way of his that Isitachapel-Asitalukin  was the one
place,  ult aut nult,  in this madh vaal of tares (whose verdhure's yellowed
therever  Phaiton  parks his  car  while its tamelised tay is  the drame  of
Drainophilias) where the possible was the improbable and  the improbable the
inevitable. If the proverbial  bishop of our holy and undivided with this me
ken or no me ken Zot is the Quiztune havvermashed had his twoe  nails on the
head we are in  for a sequentiality  of improbable possibles though possibly
nobody after  having grubbed  up a lock  of  cwold cworn aboove  his subject
probably in Harrystotalies or the vivle  will go  out of his way  to applaud
him on the onboiassed back of his remark for utterly impossible  as  are all
these  events they are probably as like those which  may have taken place as
any others which never took person at all are ever likely to be. Ahahn!
     About  that original hen. Midwinter (fruur  or kuur?) was in the offing
and  Premver  a promise of  a pril when,  as  kischabrigies sang  life's old
sahatsong, an  iceclad shiverer,  merest  of bantlings observed a  cold fowl
behaviourising   strangely  on  that   fatal  midden   or  chip  factory  or
comicalbottomed  copsjute  (dump  for  short)  afterwards changed  into  the
orangery when in the course of deeper demolition unexpectedly one  bushman's
holiday its  limon threw up a few spontaneous fragments  of orangepeel,  the
last  remains of  an outdoor meal  by some  unknown sunseeker  or placehider
illico way  back  in his  mistridden past. What child  of a strandlooper but
keepy little Kevin in the despondful surrounding of such sneezing cold would
ever have trouved up  on a strate that was called strete a motive for future
saintity by euchring the  finding  of the  Ardagh  chalice by  another heily
innocent  and  beachwalker  whilst trying  with  pious  clamour  to  wheedle
Tipperaw  raw raw  reeraw puteters out  of  Now  Sealand  in  spignt of  the
patchpurple of the massacre, a dual a duel to die to day, goddam and biggod,
sticks and stanks, of most of the Jacobiters.
     The   bird  in  the  case  was   Belinda  of  the  Dorans,a  more  than
quinquegintarian  (Terziis  prize  with  Serni   medal,  Cheepalizzy's  Hane
Exposition) and what she was  scratching  at  the  hour  of  klokking twelve
looked for  all this zogzag world like a  goodishsized sheet of  letterpaper
originating  by transhipt from  Boston  (Mass.) of the last  of the first to
Dear whom it proceded  to mention Maggy well  & allathome's health well only
the hate turned the mild on the van Houtens and the general's elections with
a lovely face  of  some born gentleman with a  beautiful present of  wedding
cakes  for  dear  thankyou Chriesty and with grand  funferall of poor Father
Michael don't forget unto life's & Muggy well how are you Maggy & hopes soon
to hear  well  & must now close  it with fondest to  the twoinns  with  four
crosskisses for holy  paul holey  comer holipoli whollyisland  pee  ess from
(locust  may  eat  all   but  this   sign  shall  they  never)  affectionate
largelooking  tache   of   tch.   The  stain,  and  that   a  teastain  (the
overcautelousness  of  the  masterbilker  here,  as usual,  signing the page
away), marked it  off  on the spout of the  moment as a  genuine  relique of
ancient Irish pleasant pottery of that  lydialike languishing class known as
a hurry-me-o'er-the-hazy.
     Why then how?
     Well,  almost any photoist  worth  his chemicots will tip anyone asking
him the teaser  that if a  negative of  a horse happens to melt enough while
drying, well, what  you do get is,  well, a positively grotesquely distorted
macromass of all sorts  of horsehappy values and  masses of meltwhile horse.
Tip. Well, this freely is what  must have occurred to our missive (there's a
sod of  a  turb for  you!  please wisp  off the grass!)  unfilthed  from the
boucher by the sagacity of  a lookmelittle likemelong hen.  Heated residence
in  the  heart of the  orangeflavoured mudmound  had  partly obliterated the
negative to start with, causing some features palpably nearer your pecker to
be swollen up  most grossly while  the farther back  we manage to wiggle the
more we need the loan of a lens to see as much as the hen saw. Tip.
     You is feeling like  you was  lost in  the bush, boy? You says: It is a
puling sample jungle of woods. You most shouts out: Bethicket me for a stump
of  a beech  if I have the poultriest  notions what the farest he all means.
Gee up, girly! The quad gospellers may own the targum but any of the Zingari
shoolerim may pick a peck of kindlings yet from the sack of auld hensyne.
     Lead,  kindly fowl! They always did: ask  the ages. What  bird has done
yesterday man may do  next year, be it fly, be it moult, be  it hatch, be it
agreement  in the nest.  For her socioscientific sense  is sound as  a bell,
sir, her  volucrine automutativeness  right on normalcy: she knows, she just
feels she was kind  of born to lay and love eggs (trust her to propagate the
species and  hoosh her fluffballs  safe through din and danger!); lastly but
mostly, in her genesic field it  is all game and no gammon; she is  ladylike
in  everything  she does and plays the gentleman's part  every  time. Let us
auspice it! Yes, before all this has  time to end the golden age must return
with  its vengeance.  Man will become dirigible,  Ague  will be rejuvenated,
woman  with  her ridiculous white  burden  will  reach  by  one step sublime
incubation,  the  manewanting human lioness  with her  dishorned  discipular
manram will lie down  together  publicly flank  upon  fleece. No, assuredly,
they are  not justified, those  gloompourers  who grouse  that  letters have
never  been quite  their old selves again since  that weird weekday in bleak
Janiveer (yet how palmy date in a waste's oasis!) when to the shock of both,
Biddy Doran looked at literature.
     And. She may  be a  mere marcella, this  midget madgetcy, Misthress  of
Arths.  But. It  is not a hear or say of some anomorous letter, signed  Toga
Girilis, (teasy  dear). We have a cop of her fist right against our nosibos.
We note the paper with her jotty  young watermark: Notre Dame du Bon March�.
And  she  has  a  heart  of  Arin!  What  lumililts  as  she fols  with  her
fallimineers and  her nadianods.  As  a strow will  shaw  she  does the wind
blague,  recting  to  show  the  rudess of a  robur curling  and shewing the
fansaties of a frizette. But how many of her readers realise that she is not
out to dizzledazzle with  a  graith uncouthrement  of postmantuam glasseries
from  the lapins  and the  grigs. Nuttings on her  wilelife!  Grabar  gooden
grandy    for    old   almeanium   adamologists   like   Dariaumaurius   and
Zovotrimaserovmeravmerouvian;  (dmzn!); she feel  plain  plate one flat fact
thing  and  if, lastways firdstwise, a man alones sine  anyon anyons utharas
has no  rates to done a kik at with anyon anakars about tutus  milking fores
and  the  rereres  on  the  outerrand  asikin  the  tutus  to  be forrarder.
Thingcrooklyexineverypasturesixdixlikencehimaroundhersthemaggerbykinkinkankanwithdownmindlookingated.
Mesdaims,  Marmouselles, Mescerfs! Silvapais! All schwants (schwrites) ischt
tell the cock's trootabout him. Kapak kapuk.  No minzies  matter.  He had to
see life foully the plak and the smut, (schwrites). There  were three men in
him (schwrites).  Dancings (schwrites) was his only ttoo feebles. With apple
harlottes.  And  a  little  mollvogels.  Spissially  (schwrites)  when  they
peaches.  Honeys  wore camelia paints. Yours  very truthful. Add dapple inn.
Yet is it but  an old story, the tale  of a Treestone with one  Ysold, of  a
Mons held by tentpegs and his pal whatholoosed on the run, what Cadman could
but Badman  wouldn't,  any Genoaman against  any Venis,  and why  Kate takes
charge of the waxworks.
     Let   us  now,  weather,  health,  dangers,  public  orders  and  other
circumstances permitting, of perfectly convenient, if you police, after you,
policepolice,   pardoning   mein,   ich  beam  so  fresch,  bey?  drop  this
jiggerypokery  and talk  straight turkey meet to mate, for while the ear, be
we mikealls or nicholists, may sometimes be  inclined to believe others  the
eye, whether  browned or nolensed, find it devilish hard now and again  even
to  believe  itself.   Habes  aures   et   num  videbis?   Habes  oculos  ac
mannepalpabuat? Tip  !  Drawing nearer to take our slant at  it (since after
all it has met with misfortune  while all underground), let us see all there
may remain to be seen.
     I  am a worker,  a tombstone mason, anxious  to pleace  averyburies and
jully  glad  when  Christmas  comes his once  ayear.  You  are a  poorjoist,
unctuous to polise  nopebobbies  and tunnibelly soully  when 'tis thime took
o'er home, gin. We cannot  say aye  to aye. We cannot  smile noes from noes.
Still. One  cannot help noticing that rather more than half of the lines run
north-south  in the Nemzes and Bukarahast  directions while  the  others  go
west-east  in  search from Maliziies with  Bulgarad for,  tiny tot though it
looks when schtschupnistling alongside  other incunabula,it has its cardinal
points for all that. These ruled barriers along which the traced words, run,
march,  halt,  walk,  stumble  at  doubtful  points,  stumble  up  again  in
comparative safety seem to have been drawn  first of all in a pretty checker
with lampblack and blackthorn. Such crossing is antechristian of course, but
the use of the homeborn shillelagh as an aid to calligraphy shows a distinct
advance from savagery to  barbarism. It  is seriously believed by some  that
the  intention may  have  been geodetic, or,  in  the  view of the  cannier,
domestic economical.  But by  writing thithaways  end  to  end and  turning,
turning  and  end  to  end  hithaways  writing and  with  lines  of  litters
slittering  up and louds  of latters slettering  down, the old semetomyplace
and  jupetbackagain from  tham  Let Rise till Hum Lit. Sleep, where  in  the
waste is the wisdom?
     Another  point,  in  addition  to  the original  sand,  pounce  powder,
drunkard paper or soft rag used (any vet or inhanger in ous sot's social can
see the seen for seemself, a wee ftofty od room,  the  cheery spluttered  on
the one  karrig, a darka  disheen of voos from Dalbania, any gotsquantity of
racky,  a portogal  and some buk setting out  on the sofer, you remember the
sort of softball sucker motru used to tell us when we were all biribiyas  or
nippies and messas)  it has acquired  accretions of terricious matter whilst
loitering in the past. The teatimestained terminal (say not the tag, mummer,
or  our show's a failure!) is a cosy  little brown study all to oneself and,
whether it be thumbprint, mademark  or just a poor trait of the artless, its
importance in  establishing  the identities in the  writer complexus (for if
the hand was one,  the minds  of active and agitated were more than so) will
be best  appreciated  by  never  forgetting that both  before and  after the
battle of the Boyne it was  a habit not to sign letters always. Tip.  And it
is  surely a lesser ignorance to write a word  with every consonant too  few
than to add  all too  many.  The  end? Say it with  missiles  then  and thus
arabesque  the  page. You  have your  cup of scalding Souchong, your taper's
waxen drop, your cat's paw, the clove or coffinnail you chewed or champed as
you  worded it, your lark in clear air. So why, pray,  sign anything as long
as every word, letter,  penstroke, paperspace is a perfect signature  of its
own? A  true friend is known much more easily, and better into the  bargain,
by  his personal touch,  habits  of full or undress, movements,  response to
appeals for charity than by his  footwear, say. And, speaking anent Tiberias
and other incestuish salacities among  gerontophils, a word of warning about
the tenderloined passion hinted at. Some softnosed peruser might mayhem take
it  up  erogenously as  the  usual case of spoons, prostituta in herba  plus
dinky pinks  deliberatively summersaulting  off her  bisexycle, at  the main
entrance of curate's  perpetual soutane suit  with her one  to see and awoh!
who  picks her up as gingerly as any balmbearer would  to feel whereupon the
virgin  was most  hurt and  nicely  asking: whyre have you  been so  grace a
mauling and where  were you chaste me child? Be who,  farther potential? and
so wider but we grisly old Sykos who have done our unsmiling bit on 'alices,
when they were yung and easily freudened, in  the penumbra of  the procuring
room and what oracular comepression we have had apply to them! could (did we
care  to sell our feebought silence in camera) tell our very moistnostrilled
one that father in such virgated contexts is not always that undemonstrative
relative (often held up  to our contumacy) who  settles our hashbill  for us
and what  an innocent allabroad's adverb such as Michaelly looks like can be
suggestive  of  under the  pudendascope  and, finally,  what  a  neurasthene
nympholept,   endocrine-pineal   typus,   of   inverted  parentage   with  a
prepossessing  drauma  present  in her past and a priapic  urge for congress
with  agnates  before  cognates  fundamentally  is  feeling  for  under  her
lubricitous meiosis when she refers with liking to  some feeler she fancie's
face. And  Mm. We could. Yet what need to say? 'Tis  as human a little story
as paper could  well carry, in  affect,  as singsing so  Salaman  susuing to
swittvitles while as unbluffingly blurtubruskblunt  as an Esra? the cat, the
cat's meeter, the  meeter's  cat's  wife,  the  meeter's  cat's  wife's half
better, the  meeter's cat's wife's half better's meeter, and so back to  our
horses, for  we also know, what we have perused from the pages of  I  Was  A
Gemral, that  Showting up  of  Bulsklivism  by  'Schottenboum',  that Father
Michael about this red time of  the white terror equals the old  regime  and
Margaret is the social revolution while cakes mean the party funds and  dear
thank you signifies national  gratitude.  In  fine,  we  have heard,  as  it
happened, of Spartacus intercellular. We are not corknered yet,dead hand! We
can  recall,  with  voluntears, the  froggy jew, and sweeter far  'twere now
westhinks in Dumbil's fair  city ere one  more year is o'er.  We tourned our
coasts to  the  good gay tunes.  When  from  down swords the  sea merged the
oldowth guns  and answer made the bold O' Dwyer. But. Est  modest in verbos.
Let a prostitute be whoso stands before a door and winks or parks herself in
the fornix near a  makeussin wall (sinsin!  sinsin!)  and the curate one who
brings strong waters  (gingin! gingin!),  but also,  and dinna forget,  that
there is  many  asleeps between someathome's first and  moreinausland's last
and that the beautiful  presence of waiting kates will until life's  (!)  be
more than enough to make  any milkmike in the language of  sweet tarts punch
hell's hate into his  twin nicky  and that Maggy's tea, or your  majesty, if
heard as  a boost from a  born gentleman  is (?). For if  the  lingo  gasped
between kicksheets,  however basically English, were to be preached from the
mouths of wickerchurchwardens and metaphysicians in the row and advokaatoes,
allvoyous,  demivoyelles, languoaths,  lesbiels, dentelles, gutterhowls  and
furtz, where would their practice be or where the human race itself were the
Pythagorean sesquipedalia of the panepistemion, however  apically Volapucky,
grunted  and  gromwelled,   ichabod,  habakuk,  opanoff,  uggamyg,  hapaxle,
gomenon, ppppfff,  over  country stiles, behind slated  dwellinghouses, down
blind lanes, or,  when all fruit fails, under  some sacking left on a coarse
cart? So  hath  been, love: tis tis: and will  be: till wears and  tears and
ages. Thief  us  the night, steal  we the air,  shawl thiner liefest,  mine!
Here,  Ohere,  insult  the fair! Traitor, bad hearer,  brave!  The lightning
look,  the  birding cry,  awe  from the  grave,  everflowing  on the  times.
Feueragusaria  iordenwater;  now godsun  shine on menday's daughter; a  good
clap, a fore marriage, a bad wake, tell hell's well; such is  manowife's lot
of  lose and win again, like he's gruen  quhiskers  on who's chin again, she
plucketed  them  out but they  grown in again.  So what are  you going to do
about it? O dear!
     If juness  she  saved! Ah  ho!  And  if  yulone  he  pouved! The  olold
stoliolum! From quiqui  quinet to michemiche chelet and a  jambebatiste to a
brulobrulo! It is  told  in  sounds in utter that, in  signs  so adds to, in
universal, in polygluttural,  in each auxiliary neutral  idiom, sordomutics,
florilingua,  sheltafocal,  flayflutter, a  con's  cubane,  a  pro's tutute,
strassarab,  ereperse and anythongue athall.  Since  nozzy  Nanette  tripped
palmyways with Highho Harry  there's a spurtfire turf a'kind o'kindling when
oft  as the souffsouff blows her peaties up  and a claypot wet for thee,  my
Sitys,  and  talkatalka tell Tibbs has eve:  and  whathough  (revilous  life
proving aye the death of ronaldses when winpower wine has bucked the kick on
poor  won  man)  billiousness  has  been  billiousness  during  milliums  of
millenions  and our mixed racings have been giving two hoots  or three jeers
for  the  grape, vine  and brew and Pieter's in Nieuw  Amsteldam and Paoli's
where  the poules go and rum  smelt his end  for him and he dined off  sooth
american  (it would  give one the frier even were one a normal Kettlelicker)
this oldworld  epistola of their  weatherings and their  marryings and their
buryings and their natural selections has combled tumbled down to us  fersch
and made-at-all-hours  like an ould cup  on tay. As I was  hottin me souser.
Haha! And as you was  caldin your dutchy hovel. Hoho! She tole the  tail  or
her toon. Huhu!
     Now,  kapnimancy and infusionism may  both  fit as tight as two trivets
but  while we  in  our  wee  free state, holding  to that  prestatute in our
charter, may have our irremovable  doubts as to the  whole sense of the lot,
the interpretation of  any phrase in the whole, the meaning of every word of
a  phrase so far deciphered out  of it,  however unfettered  our Irish daily
independence, we must vaunt no idle  dubiosity  as to its genuine authorship
and holusbolus authoritativeness. And let us bringtheecease to beakerings on
that clink, olmond bottler! On the face of it, to volt back to our desultory
horses, and for your roughshod mind, bafflelost bull, the affair  is a thing
once for  all  done  and there you are somewhere  and finished  in a certain
time, be it a day or a year or even supposing, it should eventually turn out
to be a serial  number of  goodness  gracious alone knows  how  many days or
years. Anyhow, somehow and somewhere, before the bookflood or after her ebb,
somebody  mentioned  by name  in  his telephone  directory,  Coccolanius  or
Gallotaurus, wrote  it, wrote it all, wrote it  all down, and there you are,
full  stop. O, undoubtedly yes,  and  very  potably  so, but one  who deeper
thinks  will always bear  in the baccbuccus of his mind that this  downright
there you are and there it is is only all in his eye. Why?
     Because, Soferim  Bebel, if  it  goes to that, (and dormerwindow gossip
will cry it from the housetops no surelier than the writing on the wall will
hue it to the mod of  men that mote in the  main street) every person, place
and thing in the  chaosmos  of Alle anyway connected  with  the gobblydumped
turkery was  moving and  changing  every  part of  the time: the  travelling
inkhorn (possibly pot), the hare and turtle pen  and paper, the  continually
more and less intermisunderstanding  minds of the  anticollaborators, the as
time  went on  as  it  will  variously  inflected,  differently  pronounced,
otherwise spelled,  changeably meaning vocable  scriptsigns. No, so  holp me
Petault, it is not a miseffectual whyacinthinous riot of blots and blurs and
bars and  balls and hoops and  wriggles  and juxtaposed  jottings  linked by
spurts of speed: it only looks  as like  it  as damn it; and, sure, we ought
really to rest thankful that at  this deleteful hour of dungflies dawning we
have even a written on  with dried ink scrap of  paper  at all to  show  for
ourselves,  tare  it  or leaf  it,  (and  we are lufted to ourselves as  the
soulfisher when he  led the cat out of the bout) after  all that we lost and
plundered of it even  to the hidmost  coignings of the earth and all  it has
gone through and  by all means, after  a good ground  kiss to Terracussa and
for wars  luck our lefftoff's flung over our home homoplate, cling  to it as
with drowning hands, hoping against hope all the while that, by the light of
philophosy, (and may she never folsage  us!) things will begin to clear up a
bit one way  or another within the next quarrel of an hour and  be hanged to
them as  ten  to one they  will  too, please the  pigs,  as  they  ought  to
categorically, as,  stricly between ourselves,there is a limit to all things
so this will never do.
     For, with that farmfrow's  foul flair for  that flayfell foxfetor, (the
calamite's  columitas  calling  for   calamitous   calamitance)   who   that
scrutinising  marvels at those indignant whiplooplashes;  those so prudently
bolted or blocked rounds;  the touching reminiscence of an incompletet trail
or dropped final; a round thousand  whirligig glorioles, prefaced by (alas!)
now  illegible  airy  plumeflights,  all  tiberiously  ambiembellishing  the
initials majuscule of Earwicker: the meant to be baffling chrismon trilithon
sign ~Tl,  finally  called after some  his hes  hecitency  Hec,which,  moved
contrawatchwise,  represents  his title in  sigla as  the smaller �,  fontly
called following a certain change  of state of grace of nature alp or delta,
when single, stands for or tautologically stands beside the consort: (though
for that matter, since  we have heard from Cathay cyrcles how the hen is not
mirely a  tick or two  after  the first  fifth  fourth of the  second eighth
twelfth  --  siangchang hongkong sansheneul  --  but  yirely  the other  and
thirtieth  of the ninth  from  the twentieth, our own  vulgar  432  and 1132
irrespectively, why not take the former for a village inn, the latter for an
upsidown bridge, a multiplication marking  for  crossroads ahead,  which you
like pothook for the family gibbet, their old fourwheedler for  the bucker's
field,  a tea  anyway for  a tryst someday,  and his  onesidemissing for  an
allblind  alley leading  to an Irish plot in  the  Champ de  Mors, not?) the
steady monologuy of the  interiors; the pardonable confusion  for which some
blame the cudgel and more blame the soot but unthanks to which the pees with
their caps awry are quite as often as not taken for kews with their tails in
their or are quite as often as not taken for pews with their tails  in their
mouths, thence  your  pristopher polombos, hence our  Kat Kresbyterians; the
curt witty wotty dashes never  quite  just right  at the  trim  trite  truth
letter; the sudden spluttered petulance of some  capItalIsed Middle; a  word
as  cunningly hidden in its maze of  confused drapery as a  fieldmouse in  a
nest of  coloured ribbons: that absurdly bullsfooted  bee declaring  with an
even plainer dummpshow than  does the mute commoner with us how hard a thing
it  is to mpe mporn a  gentlerman: and look at this  prepronominal funferal,
engraved  and retouched and edgewiped  and  puddenpadded,very like a whale's
egg farced with pemmican,as were it  sentenced  to be  nuzzled over  a  full
trillion  times  for ever and a night till his  noddle sink or swim by  that
ideal reader  suffering from an ideal insomnia:  all those red raddled obeli
cayennepeppercast over the text,  calling unnecessary attention  to  errors,
omissions, repetitions and misalignments: that (probably local  or personal)
variant  maggers for the  more generally  accepted majesty  which  is  but a
trifle  and  yet may  quietly  amuse: those superciliouslooking crisscrossed
Greek ees awkwardlike  perched there and  here out  of  date like sick  owls
hawked  back to Athens:  and the geegees  too, jesuistically formed at first
but  afterwards  genuflected aggrily toewards the occident: the  Ostrogothic
kakography affected  for certain  phrases  of  Etruscan  stabletalk  and, in
short, the learning betrayed  at almost every line's  end:  the headstrength
(at least eleven men of thirtytwo palfrycraft) revealed by a constant labour
to make a  ghimel pass  through  the eye of  an  iota:  this, for  instance,
utterly unexpected sinistrogyric  return  to one peculiar sore  point in the
past;  those  throne  open  doubleyous  (of an early  muddy terranean origin
whether man chooses to damn them  agglutinatively loo -- too -- blue -- face
-- ache or illvoodawpeehole or, kants  koorts, topplefouls) seated with such
floprightdown determination and reminding  uus  ineluctably of nature at her
naturalest  while  that  fretful  fidget  eff,  the  hornful digamma of your
bornabarbar,  rarely  heard now  save  when falling from  the  unfashionable
lipsus of some hetarosexual (used always in two boldfaced print types -- one
of  them  as  wrongheaded  as  his  Claudian  brother,  is  it  worth  while
interrupting to say?-- throughout the papyrus as the revise mark) stalks all
over the page broods ~~~ sensationseeking an idea, amid the verbiage, gaunt,
stands  dejectedly  in  the  diapered  window  margin,  with  its  basque of
bayleaves all aflutter about its forksfrogs, paces with a frown, jerking  to
and fro, flinging  phrases  here,  there, or returns  inhibited,  with  some
half-halted suggestion, F, dragging its shoestring; the curious warning sign
before our protoparent's ipsissima  verba (a  very  pure nondescript, by the
way, sometimes a palmtailed otter, more often the arbutus fruitflowerleaf of
the cainapple) which paleographers call a leak in the thatch or  the aranman
ingperwhis through  the  hole  of his  hat, indicating  that the words which
follow  may be taken in any order desired, hole of Aran  man the hat through
the whispering his ho (here keen  again and  begin  again to make soundsense
and  sensesound kin again); those haughtypitched disdotted aiches easily  of
the rariest inasdroll as most  of  the  jaywalking  eyes  we do plough  into
halve, unconnected,  principial, medial or  final, always  jims in the  jam,
sahib, as pipless as  threadworms: the innocent exhibitionism of those frank
yet  capricious  underlinings: that  strange  exotic  serpentine,  since  so
properly banished from our scripture, about as freakwing a wetterhand now as
to  see  a  rightheaded ladywhite don a corkhorse, which, in  its invincible
insolence  ever longer more and of more  morosity, seems to  uncoil spirally
and  swell lacertinelazily before our  eyes  under pressure of  the writer's
hand; the ungainly  musicianlessness so painted  in sculpting selfsounder ah
ha  as blackartful as  a podatus and  dumbfounder oh ho  oaproariose as  ten
canons  in skelterfugue: the studious  omission of year number and era  name
from the date, the one and only time when our copyist seems at least to have
grasped the  beauty of  restraint;  the lubricitous conjugation of  the last
with  the  first:  the  gipsy  mating of a grand  stylish gravedigging  with
secondbest  buns (an  interpolation:  these  munchables  occur  only in  the
Bootherbrowth  family of MSS., Bb -- Cod IV, Pap II, Brek XI, Lun  III, Dinn
XVII,  Sup  XXX,  Fullup  M D  C X C: the scholiast  has hungrily misheard a
deadman's toller as a muffinbell): the four shortened ampersands under which
we can glypse at  and feel for ourselves across all those rushyears the warm
soft short pants of the  quickscribbler:  the  vocative lapse  from which it
begins and the accusative hole in which it  ends itself; the aphasia of that
heroic agony of recalling a once loved number leading slip by  slipper  to a
general  amnesia of misnomering one's  own: next  those ars, rrrr! those ars
all  bellical, the  highpriest's  hieroglyph  of  kettletom  and  oddsbones,
wrasted redhandedly from  our hallowed  rubric prayer for truce with  booty,
O'Remus pro  Romulo,  and  rudely from  the fane's  pinnacle tossed down  by
porter to within an aim's ace of their quatrain  of rubyjets among Those Who
arse without  the  Temple  nor  since  Roe's  Distillery burn'd have quaff'd
Night's firefill'd  Cup  But jig  jog jug as Day  the Dicebox Throws, whang,
loyal six I  lead, out wi'yer  heart's bluid, blast  ye, and there she's for
you, sir, whang her, the fine ooman, rouge to her lobster  locks, the rossy,
whang, God and O'Mara has it with his ruddy old  Villain Rufus, wait, whang,
God  and you're another  he  hasn't  for there's my  spoil five  of  spuds's
trumps, whang, whack on his pigsking's Kisser for him, K.M. O'Mara where are
you?;  then  (coming over to  the left  aisle  corner  down)  the  cruciform
postscript from which three  basia or shorter  and smaller oscula  have been
overcarefully scraped away, plainly inspiring the tenebrous Tunc page of the
Book of Kells (and then it need not be lost sight  of that there are exactly
three squads of  candidates for the  crucian rose awaiting their turn in the
marginal panels of Columkiller, chugged in their three ballotboxes, then set
apart for such hanging committees, where two was enough for anyone, starting
with  old Matthew  himself,  as he with great distinction said then just  as
since then people  speaking  have fallen into the custom, when speaking to a
person, of saying two is  company when the third person is the person darkly
spoken of, and then that last labiolingual basium might be read as a suavium
if whoever the embracer then was wrote with a tongue in his (or perhaps her)
cheek as the case  may have been then)  and the fatal droopadwindle slope of
the  blamed  scrawl, a  sure  sign  of  imperfectible moral  blindness;  the
toomuchness, the fartoomanyness of  all those fourlegged ems: and why  spell
dear god with a big thick dhee (why, O why, O why?): the cut and dry aks and
wise form  of  the  semifinal; and, eighteenthly or  twentyfourthly,  but at
least, thank  Maurice,  lastly  when all is  zed and  done,  the  penelopean
patience of its last paraphe, a  colophon of no fewer than seven hundred and
thirtytwo  strokes  tailed  by  a  leaping  lasso--  who  thus at  all  this
marvelling  but will press on hotly to  see the vaulting  feminine libido of
those  interbranching ogham  sex upandinsweeps sternly controlled and easily
repersuaded by the uniform matteroffactness of a meandering male fist?
     Duff-Muggli,  who  now  may  be quoted by very  kind  arrangement  (his
dectroscophonious  photosensition  under suprasonic  light  control  may  be
logged  for by our  none  too distant futures  as soon  astone values can be
turned  out from  Chromophilomos, Limited  at a millicentime  the microamp),
first  called  this   kind  of  paddygoeasy  partnership  the  ulykkhean  or
tetrachiric  or  quadrumane or ducks and drakes  or debts and dishes perplex
(v.   Some   Forestallings   over   that    Studium   of   Sexophonologistic
Schizophrenesis, vol. xxiv, pp.  2-555) after the wellinformed  observation,
made  miles  apart from  the  Master  by Tung-Toyd (cf.  Later  Frustrations
amengst the Neomugglian  Teachings abaft the Semiunconscience,  passim) that
in the case of the littleknown periplic bestteller popularly associated with
the  names of the  wretched mariner  (trianforan  deffwedoff our  plumsucked
pattern shapekeeper) a Punic admiralty report, From MacPerson's Oshean Round
By the Tides  of  Jason's  Cruise,  had been cleverly capsized  and  saucily
republished  as a dodecanesian baedeker of  the  everytale-a-treat-in-itself
variety which could hope  satisfactorily to tickle me gander as game as your
goose.
     The unmistaken identity of the persons in the  Tiberiast duplex came to
light  in  the  most devious of ways. The  original document was  in what is
known as Hanno O'Nonhanno's unbrookable script, that is to say, it showed no
signs  of punctuation  of any sort. Yet on holding the  verso against a  lit
rush  this new book of Morses responded most remarkably  to the silent query
of our world's oldest  light and its recto let out the piquant fact  that it
was but pierced butnot punctured  (in the university sense of the  term)  by
numerous stabs and foliated gashes made by a pronged instrument. These paper
wounds, four in type, were gradually and correctly  understood to mean stop,
please  stop, do  please stop,  and  O  do  please  stop  respectively,  and
following up their  one true clue, the circumflexuous wall of a singleminded
men's  asylum, accentuated by bi tso  fb rok engl  a ssan dspl itch ina,  --
Yard inquiries pointed out  � that  they ad bin "provoked" ay � fork, of ...
grave Brof�sor; ...th �'s Br�ak -- fast -- table;  ; ac--tely prof�ssionally
piqu�d, to  =  introd--ce  a notion of time [--pon ...  plane  (?)  s--  ' '
f...�'e'] by p--nct! ingh oles (sic) in  Ispace?! Deeply religious by nature
and position, and warmly attached to Thee, and smearbread and better and Him
and newlaidills, it was rightly suspected that such ire  could not have been
visited by  him  Brotfressor  Prenderguest  even  underwittingly,  upon  the
ancestral pneuma of one whom, with rheuma, he venerated shamelessly at least
once a week at Cockspur Common  as his apple in his eye  and her first boys'
best friend and, though plain English for a married lady misled heaps by the
way, yet when some  peerer or peeress detected that  the fourleaved shamrock
or quadrifoil jab was more  recurrent wherever the script was  clear and the
term terse and that these two were the selfsame spots naturally selected for
her perforations  by Dame Partlet on her dungheap, thinkers all put grown in
waterungspillfull  Pratiland only and a playful fowl and musical me and  not
you  in  any  case,  two  and  two together, and,  with  a  swarm of  bisses
honeyhunting after,  a sigh for shyme  (O, the pettybonny  rouge!) separated
modest mouths.  So  be it. And it  was.  The lettermaking of  the explots of
Fjorgn Camhelsson when he was in the Kvinnes country with Soldru's men. With
acknowledgment  of our  fervour of the first  instant he remains  years most
fainfully. For  postscrapt see spoils. Though  not yet had the sailor sipped
that  sup nor the humphar foamed to the  fill. And fox and geese still  kept
the peace around L'Auberge du Pere Adam.
     Small need after that, old Jeromesolem, old Huffsnuff, old Andycox, old
Olecasandrum, for quizzing your weekenders come to the R.Q. with: shoots off
in  a  hiss,  muddles  up  in  a  mussmass  and  his  whole's  a  dismantled
noondrunkard's son.  Howbeit we  heard not a son of sons to  leave by him to
oceanic society in his  old  man without  a thing  in  his  ignorance, Tulko
MacHooley.  And  it was thus  he was at every time, that  son, and the other
time, the day was in it and after the morrow  Diremood is the name is on the
writing chap of  the psalter, the juxtajunctor of  a dearmate and he passing
out of one desire into its fellow. The daughters are after going and loojing
for him, Torba's nicelookers of the fair neck. Wanted for millinary servance
to olderly's person by the Totty Askinses. Formelly confounded with amother.
Maybe growing  a moustache, did you say, with an adorable look of amuzement?
And uses noclass billiardhalls with an upandown ladder? Not  Hans the Curier
though  had he  had have  only  had some little  laughings and  some less of
cheeks and were he not so warried by his bulb of persecussion he could have,
ay, and would have, as  true as Essex  bridge. And not Gopheph go gossip,  I
declare  to man! Noe! To all's much relief  one's half  hypothesis  of  that
jabberjaw  ape amok  the showering jestnuts of Bruisanose  was hotly dropped
and  his  room  taken  up by  that  odious and  still  today  insufficiently
malestimated  notesnatcher (kak, pfooi,  bosh  and fiety,  much earny,  Gus,
poteen? Sez you!) Shem the Penman.

Chapter 6

     So?
     Who do you no tonigh, lazy and gentleman?
     The echo is where in the back of the wodes; callhim forth!
     (Shaun  Mac Irewick,  briefdragger,  for the  concern  of  Messrs  Jhon
Jhamieson and Song, rated  one hundrick  and thin  per storehundred  on this
nightly quisquiquock of the twelve  apostrophes, set  by Jockit Mic Ereweak.
He misunderstruck and aim for am ollo of  number three of them and  left his
free natural ripostes to four of them in their own fine artful disorder.)
     I.  What secondtonone  myther rector and maximost bridgesmaker was  the
first to rise taller through his beanstale than the bluegum buaboababbaun or
the  giganteous Wellingtonia Sequoia; went  nudiboots  with trouters into  a
liffeyette when she was barely  in her tricklies;  was well known to claud a
conciliation cap onto the esker of his hooth;  sports a chainganger's albert
solemenly over his hullender's epulence; thought he  weighed a  new ton when
there  felled  his  first  lapapple;  gave  the  heinousness  of  choice  to
everyknight    betwixt    yesterdicks    and    twomaries;    had    sevenal
successivecoloured serebanmaids on the same big white drawringroam horthrug;
is  a Willbeforce to this  hour at house as he was  in heather;  pumped  the
catholick wartrey  and shocked the prodestung boyne;  killed his own hungery
self in  anger  as  a young  man; found fodder  for five when allmarken rose
goflooded; with Hirish  tutores Cornish made easy; voucher of rotables, toll
of the road;  bred manyheaded  stepsons for one leapyourown taughter; is too
funny for  a fish  and has too much outside for  an insect; like a  heptagon
crystal emprisoms  trues and fauss for  us;  is infinite swell  in unfitting
induments; once was  he shovelled and  once  was he arsoned and once was  he
inundered and she hung  him out billbailey; has  a quadrant  in his  tile to
tell Toler cad  a'clog  it is;  offers  chances to Long on but  stands up to
Legge before; found coal at  the end of his  harrow and mossroses behind the
seams; made a fort out of his postern  and wrote F.E.R.T. on his buckler; is
escapemaster-in-chief from  all  sorts of  houdingplaces;  if he  outharrods
against barkers,  to  the shoolbred he  acts whiteley; was evacuated at  the
mere  appearance of three  germhuns  and twice  besieged by  a  sweep;  from
zoomorphology to omnianimalism he is brooched by the spin of a coin; towers,
an eddistoon amid  the lampless,  casting swannbeams on the deep;  threatens
thunder  upon  malefactors and  sends whispers up fraufrau's froufrous; when
Dook Hookbackcrook upsits his ass booseworthies  jeer  and  junket but  they
boos him  oos  and baas  his aas  when he lukes  like  Hunkett  Plunkett; by
sosannsos and  search  a  party on a lady of  this  city; business,  reading
newspaper,  smoking  cigar,  arranging  tumblers  on  table,  eating  meals,
pleasure, etcetera, etcetera, pleasure, eating  meals, arranging tumblers on
table, smoking cigar, reading newspaper, business;  minerals, wash and brush
up, local views, juju toffee, comic and birthdays cards; those were the days
and he was their hero; pink sunset shower, red clay cloud, sorrow of Sahara,
oxhide  on Iren;  arraigned and  attainted,  listed and  lited,  pleaded and
proved;  catches his check at  banck  of  Indgangd and endurses his  doom at
chapel  exit; brain  of the  franks, hand  of  the christian,  tongue of the
north; commands to dinner and calls the bluff; has a block at Morgen's and a
hatache  all the  afternunch; plays  gehamerat  when  he's ernst  but misses
mausey when he's lustyg; walked as far as the Head where he sat in  state as
the Rump; shows Early English tracemarks and a marigold window with manigilt
lights,  a  myrioscope, two remarkable  piscines  and three  wellworthseeing
ambries; arches all portcullised and his nave dates from dots; is a horologe
unstoppable and the Benn of all bells; fuit, isst and herit and though  he's
mildewstaned he's mouldystoned; is a quercuss in the forest but plane member
for  Megalopolis;  mountunmighty,  faunonfleetfoot;  plank in our  platform,
blank in our  scouturn; hidal, in carucates  he  is enumerated,  hold as  an
earl, he counts; shipshaped phrase of buglooking words with a  form like the
easing moments of a graminivorous; to our dooms brought  he law, our manoirs
he made his vill of; was  an overgrind to the underground and acqueduced for
fierythroats;  sends  boys in socks acoughawhooping  when  he lets farth his
carbonoxside and silk stockings  show her  shapings  when he looses hose  on
hers;  stocks dry puder for the Ill people and pinkun's pellets  for all the
Pale;  gave  his  mundyfoot  to  Miserius,  her  pinch to  Anna  Livia, that
superfine pigtail  to  Cerisia Cerosia and quid rides to  Titius,  Caius and
Sempronius; made the man who had no notion of  shopkeepers  feel he'd rather
play the  duke  than  play  the gentleman; shot  two queans and shook  three
caskles  when he  won his game of dwarfs; fumes  inwards like a  strombolist
till he smokes at  both ends; manmote, befier of  him,  womankind,  pietad!;
shows  one  white  drift of  snow among the  gorsegrowth of his crown and  a
chaperon  of repentance  on  that which shed gore;  pause  and quies, triple
bill; went by metro for  the polis and then hoved by; to  the finders, hail!
woa, you  that seek!; whom fillth had plenished,  dearth  devoured;  hock is
leading, cocoa comes next, emery tries for the flag; can dance the O'Bruin's
polerpasse  at  Noolahn  to  his own orchistruss accompaniment;  took  place
before  the  internatural convention of  catholic  midwives and found  stead
before the  congress  for the  study of  endonational  calamities;  makes  a
delictuous entr�e and finishes  off the course between sweets and savouries;
flouts  for  forecasts, flairs  for finds and the  fun  of the  fray on  the
fairground;  cleared  out three hundred sixty five idles to  set up  one all
khalassal for  henwives hoping to have males;  the flawhoolagh, the grasping
one, the kindler of paschal  fire; forbids us  our trespassers as we forgate
him; the  phoenix be his  pyre, the  cineres  his sire!; piles big pelium on
little ossas like  the pilluls of hirculeads; has an eatupus  complex  and a
drinkthedregs kink; wurstmeats for chumps and cowcarlows for scullions; when
he plies for our favour is very trolly ours; two psychic espousals and three
desertions; may  be  matter  of  fact  now  but  was  futter of  magd  then;
Cattermole Hill, exmountain of flesh was reared up by stress  and sank under
strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout;  entoutcas for
a man,  but bit a thimble  for a maid; blimp, blump; a  dud letter, a sing a
song a  sylble;  a  byword,  a  sentence  with  surcease;  while stands  his
canyouseehim frails shall  fall; was  hatched  at  Cellbridge but ejoculated
abrood;  as it gan in  the biguinnengs so wound  up  in a  battle  of  Boss;
Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you've gone the way of the Danes; variously
catalogued,  regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a  quacker's mating, a
wenches' sandbath; the  same  homoheatherous checkinlossegg as when sollyeye
airly blew ye; real detonation but false report; spa mad but inn  sane; half
emillian via bogus census  but a no  street hausmann when  allphannd; is the
handiest of all andies and  a most alleghant  spot to dump your hump;  hands
his  secession to the new patricius but plumps plebmatically  for the bloody
old centuries; eats with doors open and ruts with gates closed; some dub him
Rotshield  and more limn him Rockyfellow; shows he's fly to  both demisfairs
but  thries to cover  up his  tracers; seven dovecotes cooclaim to have been
pigeonheim  to  this  homer,  Smerrnion,   Rhoebok,  Kolonsreagh,  Seapoint,
Quayhowth,  Ashtown,  Ratheny; independent  of the lordship of  chamberlain,
acknowledging  the rule of Rome; we saw thy farm at Useful  Prine, Domhnall,
Domhnall; reeks like Illbelpaese and  looks like  Iceland's ear;  lodged  at
quot places, lived  through tot reigns; takes a szumbath for his weekend and
a  wassarnap  for his refreskment; after  a  good bout  at stoolball  enjoys
Giroflee Giroflaa;  what  Nevermore missed  and Colombo  found;  believes in
everyman his  own goaldkeeper and in  Africa for the fullblacks; the  arc of
his drive was forty full and his stumps were pulled at eighty; boasts him to
the thick-inthews the oldest creater in Aryania and looks down  on the Suiss
family Collesons whom he calls les nouvelles roches; though  his heart, soul
and  spirit  turn  to  pharaoph times,  his  love, faith and hope  stick  to
futuerism;  light leglifters cense  him  souriantes  from  afore  while boor
browbenders curse  him grommelants to his  hindmost;  between  youlasses and
yeladst glimse of Even; the Lug his peak has, the Luk his pile; drinks tharr
and wodhar for his  asama and eats the unparishable sow to styve  off reglar
rack; the  beggars cloak  them reclined  about  his  paddystool, the  whores
winken him  as they walk their  side;  on Christienmas  at Advent Lodge, New
Yealand, after a lenty illness the roeverand Mr Easterling of pentecostitis,
no  followers  by bequest,  fanfare all private; Gone Where Glory  Waits Him
(Ball,  bulletist)  but  Not  Here  Yet  (Maxwell,  clark); comminxed  under
articles but phoenished a  borgiess; from  the  vat on  the bier through the
burre in the dark to the buttle of the bawn; is AI an the highest but Roh re
his root; filled fanned of hackleberries whenas all was tuck and toss up for
him as a yangster to fall fou of hockinbechers wherein he had gauged the use
of  raisin; ads  aliments, das doles, raps  rustics,  tams turmoil; sas seed
enough for a semination but sues skivvies on the sly; learned  to speak from
hand to mouth till he could talk earish with his  eyes shut; hacked his  way
through hickheckhocks  but hanged hishelp  from there  hereafters;  rialtos,
annesleyg,  binn and  balls to say nothing atolk of New  Comyn; the gleam of
the  glow of the shine  of  the sun through the dearth  of  the dirth on the
blush  of  the brick of  the viled ville of  Barnehulme  has dust turned  to
brown; these dyed  to tartan him, rueroot, dulse, bracken, teasel,  fuller's
ash, sundew and cress; long gunn but not for cotton; stood his sharp assault
of famine  but grew girther, girther and  girther; he has twenty four  or so
cousins germinating  in  the United States of America and a namesake with an
initial difference in the once kingdom  of Poland; his first's a young  rose
and  his second's FrenchEgyptian and his whole means  a slump at Christie's;
forth of his pierced part  came  the woman of his dreams, blood thicker then
water last trade overseas; buyshop of  Glintylook, eorl of Hoed;  you and  I
are in him surrented by brwn bldns; Elin's flee polt pelhaps but Hwang Chang
evelytime; he  one was your  of highbigpipey  boys but  fancy him as smoking
fags  his  at time of life;  Mount of  Mish,  Mell of Moy; had two  cardinal
ventures  and  three  capitol sinks; has  a  peep  in his  pocketbook and  a
packetboat in his  keep;  B.V.H., B.L.G.,  P.P.M.,  T.D.S.,  V.B.D., T.C.H.,
L.O.N.; is Breakfates, Lunger, Diener and Souper; as the streets were  paved
with cold  he felt his topperairy; taught himself skating and learned how to
fall; distinctly dirty but rather a dear;  hoveth  chieftains evrywehr, with
morder; Ostman Effendi, Serge Paddishaw; baases two mmany, outpriams al' his
parisites; first of the fenians, roi des fain�ants; his  Tiara of scones was
held  unfillable. till one  Liam Fail felled him in Westmunster; was  struck
out  of his sittem when he rowed  saulely to demask us  and to our appauling
predicament  brought as  plagues  from  Buddapest; put  a  matchhead  on  an
aspenstalk and set  the living  a  fire; speared  the  rod  and spoiled  the
lightning; married with cakes and repunked with pleasure; till he was buried
howhappy was he and he made  the welkins ring  with Up Micawber!; god at the
top  of  the staircase,  carrion on the mat of straw;  the  false  hood of a
spindler web  chokes the cavemouth of his  unsightliness  but  the nestlings
that liven his leafscreen sing him a lover of arbuties; we strike hands over
his bloodied warsheet  but  we are pledged entirely to his green mantle; our
friend vikelegal, our swaran foi; under  the four stones by his  streams who
vanished the wassailbowl at the joy of shells; Mora and Lora had a hill of a
high time looking down on his confusion till firm look in readiness, forward
spear and the windfoot of curach strewed the lakemist of  Lego over the last
of his fields;  we darkened for you, faulterer, in the year of  mourning but
we'll fidhil to the dimtwinklers when the streamy  morvenlight calls  up the
sunbeam;  his  striped  pantaloons,  his  rather  strange walk;  hereditatis
columna erecta, hagion chiton  eraphon; nods a  nap for the nonce  but crows
cheerio when they  get ecunemical;  is a simultaneous equator of elimbinated
integras when three upon one is by inspection improper; has the most conical
hodpiece of  confusianist heronim  and that chuchuffuous chinchin of his  is
like  a  footsey  kungoloo  around  Taishantyland;  he's  as  globeful  as a
gasometer of lithium and luridity and he was thrice ten  anular years before
he wallowed round Raggiant Circos; the cabalstone at the coping of his cavin
is  a  canine   constant  but  only  an  amirican  could  apparoxemete   the
apeupresiosity of  his atlast's alongement;  sticklered  rights and lefts at
Baddersdown in his  hunt  for the  boar  trwth  but made his  end  with  the
modareds  that came  at  him  in  Camlenstrete;  a  hunnibal  in  exhaustive
conflict, an otho to return;  burning  body to aiger air on melting mountain
in  wooing  wave;  we  go  into him sleepy  children,  we  come out  of  him
strucklers for life; he divested to save from the  Mrs Drownings their rival
queens  while  Grimshaw,  Bragshaw  and Renshaw made  off  with  his  storen
clothes; taxed  and rated, licensed and ranted; his threefaced stonehead was
found on a whitehorse hill and the print  of his costellous feet  is seen in
the goat's grasscircle; pull the  blind, toll  the deaf and call  dumb, lame
and  halty; Miraculone, Monstrucceleen; led the  upplaws at the Creation and
hissed  a snake charmer off her stays; hounded become haunter, hunter become
fox; harrier, marrier, terrier, tav; Olaph the  Oxman, Thorker the Tourable;
you  feel  he is  Vespasian  yet you  think  of him as Aurelius;  whugamore,
tradertory,  socianist,  commoniser; made a summer assault on our shores and
begiddy got his sands full; first he shot down Raglan  Road and then he tore
up  Marlborough  Place;  Cromlechheight  and  Crommalhill were  his farfamed
feetrests  when  our  lurch  as  lout  let  free  into  the  Lubar  heloved;
mareschalled  his wardmotes and delimited  the main; netted before nibbling,
can scarce turn a  scale but, grossed after meals, weighs a town in himself;
Banba  prayed for  his  conversion,  Beurla  missed that  grand old voice; a
Colossus  among cabbages,  the Melarancitrone  of fruits;  larger than life,
doughtier than death;  Gran Turco,  orege forment; lachsembulger, leperlean;
the  sparkle  of  his  genial fancy,  the  depth  of his calm sagacity,  the
clearness of his spotless honour, the flow of his boundless benevolence; our
family furbear, our tribal tarnpike; quary was he invincibled and cur was he
burked; partitioned  Irskaholm, united Irishmen; he took a svig  at  his own
methyr but she tested a bit gorky and  as for the salmon he was coming up in
him  all life  long;  comm, eilerdich hecklebury and  sawyer  thee  ,warden;
silent  as  the  bee  in  honey,  stark as the  breath  on hauwck, Costello,
Kinsella, Mahony,  Moran, though you rope  Amrique  your home ruler is  Dan;
figure right, he is hoisted by the scurve  of his shaggy neck,  figure left,
he is rationed in isobaric patties among the crew; one asks was he poisoned,
one  thinks how much  did he  leave; ex-gardener (Riesengebirger), fitted up
with planturous  existencies would  make Roseoogreedy (mite's)  little hose;
taut  sheets and  scuppers awash but the oil silk mack Liebsterpet micks his
aquascutum;  the  enjoyment  he took in kay women, the employment he gave to
gee men; sponsor to a squad of piercers, ally to a  host of rawlies; against
lightning, explosion, fire, earthquake,  flood,  whirlwind, burglary,  third
party, rot, loss of cash, loss of credit,  impact of vehicles; can  rant  as
grave as oxtail  soup and chat as gay  as a porto flippant; is unhesitent in
his  unionism  and yet  a  pigotted  nationalist; Sylviacola is  shy of him,
Matrosenhosens nose the joke; shows the sinews of peace in his chest-o-wars;
fiefeofhome,  ninehundred  and thirtunine years  of copyhold; is aldays open
for polemypolity's sake when he's not suntimes closed for the love of Janus;
sucks  life's  eleaxir from  the pettipickles of  the Jewess and  ruoulls in
sulks  if  any popeling  runs  down  the  Huguenots;  Boomaport,  Walleslee,
Ubermeerschall Blowcher  and  Supercharger, Monsieur Ducrow, Mister  Mudson,
master gardiner; to one he's just paunch and judex, to another full of beans
and   brehons;  hallucination,  cauchman,  ectoplasm;  passed   for   baabaa
blacksheep  till he  grew white woo woo  woolly;  was  drummatoysed  by  Mac
Milligan's  daughter and put  to music by  one shoebard; all fitzpatricks in
his emirate remember  him,  the boys  of wetford  hail him babu;  indanified
himself with boro  tribute and was schenkt publicly to brigstoll; was  given
the light in drey orchafts and entumuled in threeplexes; his likeness  is in
Terrecuite  and  he giveth rest to the rainbowed; lebriety, frothearnity and
quality; his reverse makes  a  virtue of necessity while  his obverse mars a
mother by invention; beskilk his gunwale and he's the second imperial, untie
points, unhook tenters  and he's lath and plaster; calls upon  Allthing when
he fails  to  appeal to Eachovos; basidens, ardree, kongsemma, rexregulorum;
stood into Dee  mouth, then backed broadside on Baulacleeva; either eldorado
or ultimate thole; a kraal of fou feud fires, a crawl of five pubs; laid out
lashings  of laveries to hunt down his family ancestors and then pled double
trouble or  quick quits to hush the buckers up; threw pebblets for luck over
one  sodden  shoulder and dragooned peoplades  armed to their teeth; pept as
Gaudio Gambrinus, grim as Potter the Grave; ace of arts, deuce of damimonds,
trouble of clubs, fear of  spates; cumbrum, cumbrum,  twiniceynurseys fore a
drum but tre to uno tips the scale; reeled the titleroll opposite a brace of
girdles in Silver on the Screen but was sequenced from the  set as Crookback
by  the even more titulars, Rick, Dave and Barry; he can get on as  early as
the  twentysecond  of  Mars  but  occasionally  he  doesn't  come  offbefore
Virgintiquinque  Germinal;  his  Indian name  is Hapapoosiesobjibway and his
number in  arithmosophy is  the  stars of  the  plough;  took weapon in  the
province of  the  pike and  let fling his  line on Eelwick; moves  in vicous
cicles yet remews the same; the drain rats bless  his  offals while the park
birds curse  his floodlights; Portobello, Equadocta, Therecocta, Percorello;
he pours into the softclad shellborn the hard cash earned in Watling Street;
his  birth proved accidental shows his death its  grave mistake;  brought us
giant ivy from the land of younkers  and bewitthered  Apostolopolos with the
gale of his gall; while satisfied that soft youthful  bright matchless girls
should  bosom  into fine  silkclad joyous blooming young  women  is  not  so
pleased that  heavy  swearsome  strongsmelling  irregularshaped  men  should
blottout active handsome wellformed frankeyed boys; herald hairyfair, alloaf
the wheat;  husband  your aunt and endow  your nepos;  hearken but hush  it,
screen him and  see;  time  is, an  archbishopric,  time was, a  tradesmen's
entrance; beckburn brooked with wath, scale scarred by scow; his rainfall is
a couple of kneehighs while his meanst grass temperature marked three in the
shade; is the meltingpoint of snow and the bubblingplace  of alcohol;  has a
tussle with  the trulls  and  then does  himself justice;  hinted at  in the
eschatological chapters of Humphrey's Justesse of the Jaypees and hunted for
by  Theban recensors who sniff there's something behind the Bug of the Deaf;
thc king was in his cornerwall melking mark so murry, the queen was steep in
armbour feeling fain and furry, the mayds was midst the hawthorns shoeing up
their hose, out pimps the back guards (pomp  !) and pump gun  they goes;  to
all his foretellers he reared a stone and for all his comethers he planted a
tree; forty acres, sixty miles, white stripe, red  stripe, washes  his fleet
in  annacrwatter; whou missed a porter so whot shall he do  for he wanted to
sit  for  Pimploco  but they've  caught him to stand  for  Sue?;  Dutchlord,
Dutchlord, overawes us;  Headmound, king and martyr, dunstung in the  Yeast,
Pitre-le-Pore-in Petrin, Barth-the-Grete-by-theExchange; he  hestens towards
dames troth and wedding  hand like the prince of Orange and  Nassau while he
has trinity left  behind  him  like Bowlbeggar Bill-the-Bustonly;  brow of a
hazelwood, pool in the  dark; changes  blowicks into bullocks and a  well of
Artesia  into  a  bird  of  Arabia;  the handwriting  on  his facewall,  the
cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata  in his exprussians; his  birthspot lies beyond
the herospont and his burialplot in the pleasant little field; is the yldist
kiosk on the pleninsula and the unguest hostel in Saint  Scholarland; walked
many hundreds and  many  score miles of  streets  and  lit thousands in  one
nightlights  in hectares of  windows;  his great wide cloak  lies on fifteen
acres and his little white  horse  decks by dozens  our doors;  O sorrow the
sail and woe  the rudder that were set  for Mairie Quai!; his suns the huns,
his  dartars the tartars, are plenty here today; who repulsed from his burst
the bombolts of Ostenton and  falchioned each flash  downsaduck in the deep;
apersonal problem, a locative enigma; upright one,  vehicule of arcanisation
in the field, lying  chap, floodsupplier of celiculation through ebblanes; a
part of the whole as a port for a whale; Dear Hewitt Castello, Equerry, were
daylighted with our outing and  are  looking  backwards  to unearly summers,
from  Rhoda  Dundrums;  is  above  the  seedfruit  level  and  outside   the
leguminiferous zone; when older links  lock older hearts then he'll resemble
she; can be built with glue and clippings, scrawled or voided on a buttress;
the night express sings his story, the  song of sparrownotes on his stave of
wires; he  crawls  with  lice, he  swarms with saggarts; is  as  quiet  as a
mursque but can be as noisy as a sonogog; was Dilmun when his date was palmy
and  Mudlin when  his nut was cracked; suck up the sease, lep laud at  ease,
one lip on his lap and one cushlin his crease; his porter has a mighty grasp
and his  baxters the boon  of broadwhite; as far as wind dries and rain eats
and sun turns and  water  bounds he is exalted  and depressed, assembled and
asundered;  go away, we are deluded, come back, we are disghosted; bored the
Ostrov, leapt the Inferus, swam  the Mabbul and flure the  Moyle;  like fat,
like fatlike tallow,  of greasefulness,  yea of  dripping greasefulness; did
not say to the old, old, did not  say  to  the  scorbutic, scorbutic; he has
founded  a house,  Uru, a house  he has founded to which he has assigned its
fate; bears a  raaven geulant on a fjeld  duiv; ruz the  halo offhis  varlet
when he appeared to  his  shecook as Haycock, Emmet, Boaro, Toaro, Osterich,
Mangy  and  Skunk; pressed  the  beer of  aled age out  of  the  nettles  of
rashness; put a roof on the lodge  for Hymn and  a coq  in his pot pro homo;
was dapifer then pancircensor then hortifex magnus; the  topes that  tippled
on him, the types that toppled off him; still starts our hares yet gates our
goat;  pocketbook packetboat, gapman  gunrun; the light of other days,  dire
dreary  darkness;  our  awful  dad, Timour of Tortur;  puzzling,  startling,
shocking,  nay,  perturbing; went puffing from king's brugh to new  customs,
doffing the gibbous off him to every breach of  all size; with Pa's new heft
and Papa's  new  helve  he's Papapa's old  cutlass Papapapa  left  us;  when
youngheaded  oldshouldered  and  middlishneck  aged  about;  caller  herring
everydaily,  turgid  tarpon overnight; see Loryon the  comaleon that changed
endocrine history by loeven his loaf with forty bannucks; she drove him dafe
till he driv her blind up; the pigeons doves be perchin all over him one day
on Baslesbridge and the ravens duv be pitchin their dark  nets after him the
next night behind Koenigstein's Arbour; tronf of the rep,  comf of the priv,
prosp  of  the  pub; his headwood  it's ideal if his feet are bally clay; he
crashed in the hollow of the park, trees down, as he soared in the vaguum of
the  phoenix, stones  up; looks like a  moultain  boultter and sounds like a
rude word;  the  mountain view, some lumin  pale  round a lamp of succar  in
boinyn  water;  three  shots a  puddy at up  blup saddle; made  up  to  Miss
MacCormack Ni Lacarthy who made off  with  Darly  Dermod, swank and swarthy;
once  diamond cut garnet now dammat cuts groany; you might find  him  at the
Florence but watch our for him  in Wynn's Hotel; theer's his bow and wheer's
his  leaker and heer lays his bequiet hearse,  deep; Swed Albiony, likeliest
villain of the place;  Hennery Canterel  -- Cockran, eggotisters, limitated;
we take our tays and frees our  fleas round sadurn's mounted foot; built the
Lund's kirk and destroyed the church's land; who guesse his title grabs  his
deeds;  fletch  and  prities,  fash  and  chaps;  artful  Juke  of  Wilysly;
Hugglebelly's  Funniral; Kukkuk Kallikak; heard in  camera  and excruciated;
boon   when   with   benches   billeted,   bann  if   buckshotbackshattered;
heavengendered, chaosfoedted,  earthborn; his father  presumptively ploughed
it deep  on overtime and  his mother as all  evince must have travailled her
fair share;  a footprinse on the Megacene, hetman unwhorsed by  Searingsand;
honorary captain of  the  extemporised fire brigade, reported to be friendly
with  the  police; the door is  still open; the old stock  collar is  coming
back; not forgetting the time you laughed  at Elder Charterhouse's duckwhite
pants and  the way you said the whole  township can see  his  hairy legs; by
stealth of a  kersse her aulburntress abaft  his nape  she  hung;  when  his
kettle  became a hearthsculdus our thorstyites  set their lymphyamphyre; his
yearletter concocted by masterhands of  assays, his hallmark  imposed by the
standard of wrought plate; a  pair of pectorals and a  triplescreen to get a
wind up; lights his  pipe with a rosin tree and hires a towhorse to haul his
shoes; cures slavey's scurvy, breaks barons boils; called to sell polosh and
was found later in a bedroom; has  his seat of  justice, his house of mercy,
his  com  o'copious  and his  stacks a'rye; prospector,  he had a rooksacht,
retrospector,  he holds the holpenstake; won the freedom of new yoke for the
minds of jugoslaves;  acts active, peddles in passivism  and is a  gorgon of
selfridgeousness; pours a laughsworth of his illformation  over a larmsworth
of salt; half  heard  the single maiden  speech La Belle spun to  her  Grand
Mount and wholed a lifetime by his ain fireside,wondering was  it hebrew set
to himmeltones or  the quicksilversong of  qwaternions;  his troubles may be
over  but his doubles have still  to come; the lobster pot that  crabbed our
keel, the garden  pet that spoiled our  squeezed peas; he stands in a lovely
park,  sea  is not far, importunate towns of  X, Y  and  Z are  easily  over
reached; is an excrescence to civilised humanity and  but  a wart on Europe;
wanamade singsigns to  soundsense an yit he wanna git all his flesch nuemaid
motts  truly  prural  and  plusible;  has  excisively  large  rings  and  is
uncustomarily  perfumed; lusteth ath  he  listeth  the  cleah whithpeh  of a
themise;  is a  prince of the fingallian  in a hiberniad of  hoolies; has  a
hodge to  wherry him and  a frenchy  to  curry him  and a  brabanson for his
beeter and a fritz at his switch;  was waylaid of a parker and beschotten by
a buckeley; kicks lintils when he's cuppy and casts Jacob's  arroroots, dime
after dime,  to poor waifstrays on  the perish; reads  the charms  of  H. C.
Endersen all the weaks  of his evenin and the crimes of Ivaun the  Taurrible
every  strongday  morn; soaps you soft  to your face and slaps  himself when
he's badend; owns the  bulgiest bungbarrel that  ever was tiptapped  in  the
privace of the Mullingar Inn; was bom with a  nuasilver tongue in his  mouth
and went round the coast of Iron with his lift hand to the scene; raised but
two fingers and yet smelt it would day; for whom it is easier to found a see
in Ebblannah than  for I or you to find a dubbeltye in Dampsterdamp; to live
with whom is a lifemayor and to know whom a liberal education; was dipped in
Hoily Olives and  chrysmed in Scent Otooles; hears  cricket on the earth but
annoys  the life out of predikants; still turns the durc's  ear of Darius to
the now thoroughly infurioted' one of God; made  Man with juts that jerk and
minted money mong  maney; likes a six acup  pudding  when  he's  come  whome
sweetwhome;  has come through all the  eras of  livsadventure from moonshine
and shampaying down  to clouts  and  pottled  porter;  woollem  the  farsed,
hahnreich the althe, charge  the sackend, writchad the thord; if  a mandrake
shricked to convultures at  last  surviving his birth the weibduck will wail
bitternly over the rotter's resurrection; loses weight in the moon night but
gird girder by the sundawn; with  one touch  of  nature set  a veiled  world
agrin  and went  within a sheet of tissuepaper of the option of three gaols;
who  could see at one blick a saumon taken with a lance,  hunters pursuing a
doe, a swallowship in full sail, a whyterobe  lifting a host; faced flappery
like old King Cnut and  turned his back like  Cincinnatus;  is a  farfar and
morefar and  a hoar father  Nakedbucker  in villas old as new; squats aquart
and cracks  aquaint when it's flaggin  in town  and on haven; blows whiskery
around his summit but  stehts stout upon his footles; stutters fore he falls
and goes mad entirely when he's waked; is Timb to the pearly mom and Tomb to
the mourning night; and  an he had the best bunbaked bricks in bould Babylon
for his pitching plays he'd be lost for the want of his wan wubblin wall?
     Answer: Finn MacCool!
     2. Does your mutter know your mike?
     Answer: When I tum meoptics, from suchurban prospects, 'tis my filial's
bosom,  doth behold with pride, that  pontificator, and circumvallator, with
his dam night  garrulous, slipt  by his side.  Ann  alive, the lisp  of her,
'twould grig mountains whisper her, and the bergs of  Iceland melt  in waves
of fire, and  her  spoonme-spondees, and her  dirckle-me-ondenees, make  the
Rageous Ossean, kneel and quaff a lyre! If Dann's dane, Ann's dirty, if he's
plane she's purty, if he's fane, she's flirty, with her auburnt streams, and
her coy cajoleries, and her dabblin drolleries,  for  to rouse his rudderup,
or  to drench his dreams. If hot Hammurabi, or cowld  Clesiastes, could espy
her  pranklings,  they'd burst bounds agin,  and renounce their  ruings, and
denounce their doings, for river and iver, and a night. Amin !
     3. Which title is the true-to-type motto-in-lieu for that Tick for Teac
thatchment painted witt wheth one darkness, where asnake is under clover and
birds  aprowl are in the rookeries and  a  magda  went to  monkishouse and a
riverpaard  was  spotted, which  is  not  Whichcroft  Whorort not Ousterholm
Dreyschluss not Haraldsby, grocer, not Vatandcan, vintner, not Houseboat and
Hive  not  Knox-atta-Belle not O'Faynix Coalprince not Wohn  Squarr Roomyeck
not Ebblawn  Downes not Le Decer Le Mieux not  Benjamin's Lea not Tholomew's
Whaddingtun gnot Antwarp gnat Musca not Corry's not Weir's not the  Arch not
The Smug  not The  Dotch  House not  The Uval nothing Grand nothing Splendid
(Grahot or Spletel) nayther Erat Est Erit noor Non michi sed luciphro?
     Answer: Thine obesity, O civilian, hits the felicitude of our orb!
     4. What  Irish  capitol  city (a dea o dea!)  of two syllables and  six
letters, with a  deltic origin  and a  ruinous end, (ah dust oh  dust!)  can
boost of having a) the most extensive public park  in the world, b) the most
expensive brewing  industry  in the world, c) the  most  expansive  peopling
thoroughfare in the world, d) the most phillohippuc theobibbous pa--pulation
in the world: and harmonise your abecedeed responses?
     Answer: a) Delfas. And when ye'll  hear  the gould hommers of my heart,
my  floxy  loss, bingbanging  again  the  ribs  of  yer resistance  and  the
tenderbolts  of my rivets working to your  destraction ye'll be sheverin wi'
all yer dinful sobs when we'll  go riding acope-acurly, you with yer  orange
garland and me with my conny cordial, down the greaseways of rollicking into
the waters of wetted life. b)  Dorhqk. And sure where can you have such good
old chimes anywhere, and  leave you, as on the  Mash and how'tis I  would be
engaging you with my plovery soft accents  and descanting upover  the  scene
beunder me of your loose vines in their hairafall with them two loving loofs
braceleting  the  slims  of  your  ankles  and your mouth's flower  rose and
sinking ofter the soapstone of  silvry speech. c) Nublid. Isha, why wouldn't
we  be happy,  avourneen,  on. the mills'money  he'll soon be leaving you as
soon as I've my own owned brooklined Georgian mansion's lawn to recruit upon
by  Doctor Cheek's special orders and  my  copper's panful of  soybeans  and
Irish in  my east hand and a James's Gate in my west, after all  the errears
and erroriboose of combarative embottled history, and your goodself churning
over the newleaved butter (more power to you), the choicest and the cheapest
from Atlanta to  Oconee, while I'll be drowsing in the gaarden. d) Dalway. I
hooked my  thoroughgoing trotty  the first down Spanish Place, Mayo I  make,
Tuam I take, Sligo's sleek  but Galway's grace. Holy eel and Sainted Salmon,
chucking chub and  ducking dace, Rodiron's not your aequal! says she, leppin
half  the lane. abcd) A bell a  bell  on Shalldoll Steepbell, ond  be'll  go
massplon pristmoss speople, Shand praise gon ness our fayst moan neople, our
prame Shandeepen, pay name muy feepence, moy nay non Aequallllllll!
     5.  Whad  slags  of a  loughladd would retten smuttyflesks,emptout  old
mans, melk vitious geit, scareoff jackinjills fra  tiddle anding, smoothpick
waste papish pastures,  insides man  outsiders  angell,  sprink dirted water
around village, newses, tobaggon  and sweeds, plain general kept, louden  on
the kirkpeal,  foottreats given to malafides, outshriek hyelp hyelf  nor his
hair efter buggelawrs,  might underhold  three  barnets,  putzpolish  crotty
bottes,  nightcoover all fireglims, serve's time till  baass, grindstone his
kniveses, fullest boarded, lewd man of the method of godliness, perchance he
nieows and thans sits  in the  spoorwaggen, X.W.C.A. on Z.W.C.U., Doorsteps,
Limited, or Baywindaws Bros swobber preferred. Walther Clausetter's and Sons
with the H. E.  Chimneys' Company  to not skreve, will, on advices, be bacon
or  stable  hand, must  begripe fullstandingly irers' langurge, jublander or
northquain  bigger prefurred, all  duties, kine rights, family fewd, outings
fived,  may get earnst, no  get combitsch,  profusional drinklords to please
obstain, he is  fatherlow soundigged inmoodmined pershoon but  aleconnerman,
nay, that must he isn't?
     Answer: Pore ole Joe!
     6. What means the saloon slogan Summon In The Housesweep Dinah?
     Answer: Tok. Galory bit of the sales  of Cloth nowand I have to beeswax
the bringing  in all the claub  of the porks to us how I thawght I  knew his
stain on the flower if me ask and can could speak and he called by me midden
name Tik. I am  your honey honeysugger phwhtphwht  tha Bay  and who bruk the
dandleass  and  who  seen the blackcullen jam for Tomorrha's  big pickneck I
hope it'll  pour prais the Climate of all Ireland I heard the grackles and I
skimming the  crock on all your  sangwidges fippence per  leg per drake.Tuk.
And who eight the last of the goosebellies  that was mowlding from  measlest
years and who leff that there and who put that here and who let the kilkenny
stale the chump. Tek. And whowasit youwasit propped the  pot in the yard and
whatinthe  nameofsen lukeareyou  rubbinthe  sideofthe  flureofthe lobbywith.
Shite! will you have a plateful? Tak.
     7.  Who are those component partners of our societate, the doorboy, the
cleaner,  the sojer, the crook, the  squeezer,  the lounger, the curman, the
tourabout, the mussroomsniffer, the bleakablue tramp, the funpowtherplother,
the  christymansboxer, from  their  pr�s sal�s  and  Donnybrook  prater  and
Roebuck's  campos and the Ager Arountown and Crumglen's grassy but Kimmage's
champ  and  Ashtown  fields and Cabra  fields and Finglas fields and  Santry
fields and the feels of Raheny and their fails and Baldoygle to them who are
latecomers  all  the year's  round by anticipation, are the  porters of  the
passions  in   virtue   of   retroratiocination,  and,  contributting  their
conflingent controversies of differentiation, unify their voxes in a vote of
vaticination, who crunch the crusts of comfort due to depredation, drain the
mead for  misery  to  incur  intoxication, condone every evil  by  practical
justification and condam  any  good to its own gratification, who are ruled,
roped,  duped and  driven by those numen daimons,  the  feekeepers at  their
laws,    nightly    consternation,    fortnightly    fornication,    monthly
miserecordation and omniannual recreation, doyles when they  deliberate  but
sullivans when they are  swordsed, Matey, Teddy,  Simon, Jorn, Pedher, Andy,
Barty, Philly, Jamesy Mor and Tom, Matt and Jakes Mac Carty?
     Answer: The Morphios!
     8. And how war yore maggies?
     Answer: They war loving, they love laughing,  they laugh weeping,  they
weep smelling, they smell  smiling, they smile hating, they  hate  thinking,
they  think  feeling,  they  feel tempting,  they  tempt  daring, they  dare
waiting, they wait taking, they  take thanking, they  thank seeking, as born
for  lorn in lore of love to live  and wive by wile and rile by rule of ruse
'reathed rose and hose  hol'd home, yeth cometh elope  year, coach and four,
Sweet Peck-at-my-Heart picks one man more.
     9. Now, to be on anew and basking  again in the  panaroma of all flores
of speech, if a human being duly fatigued by his dayety in the sooty, having
plenxty off time on  his  gouty hands  and vacants of space  at his sleepish
feet  and as hapless behind  the dreams of accuracy as any camelot prince of
dinmurk, were at this  auctual futule preteriting unstant,  in the states of
suspensive exanimation, accorded, throughout the eye  of a  noodle,  with an
earsighted  view  of old  hopeinhaven with all the ingredient  and egregiunt
whights and ways to which in the curse of his  persistence the course of his
tory will  had  been having  recourses, the  reverberration  of knotcracking
awes,  the  reconjungation  of   nodebinding   ayes,  the  redissolusingness
of.mindmouldered ease and the thereby hang  of the Hoel of it, could such  a
none,   whiles   even  led   comesilencers  to  comeliewithhers   and   till
intempestuous Nox should catch the gallicry and spot lucan's dawn, byhold at
ones what is main and why tis twain, how one once meet melts in tother wants
poignings, the sap  rising, the foles falling, the nimb  now nihilant  round
the girlyhead so becoming,  the wrestless  in  the womb,  all the  rivals to
allsea, shakeagain, O disaster! shakealose, Ah how starring!  but Heng's got
a bit of  Horsa's  nose and Jeff's got the signs of  Ham round his mouth and
the beau that  spun beautiful pales as  it palls, what roserude and oragious
grows gelb and greem,  blue out the ind  of it !  Violet's  dyed! then  what
would that fargazer seem to seemself to seem seeming of, dimm it all?
     Answer: A collideorscape!
     10. What bitter's  love but yurning, what' sour  lovemutch but  a  bref
burning till shee that drawes dothe smoake retourne?
     Answer:  I know,  pepette,  of course, dear,  but  listen,  precious  !
Thanks, pette, those are lovely,  pitounette,  delicious! But mind the wind,
sweet! What exquisite hands you have,  you angiol, if  you didn't  gnaw your
nails,  isn't it a  wonder you're not achamed  of me, you  pig,  you perfect
little  pigaleen!  I'll nudge  you  in a minute  ! I  bet you  use her  best
Perisian  smear off  her  vanity table to make them look so rosetop glowstop
nostop. I know  her.  Slight me,  would  she?  For every got  I care!  Three
creamings a day, the first during her shower and wipe  off with tissue. Then
after cleanup and of  course before  retiring. Beme shawl, when I  think  of
that espos of a Clancarbry, the foodbrawler,  of the sociationist party with
hiss blackleaded chest, hello, Prendregast! that you, Innkipper, and all his
fourteen other  fullback maulers or hurling stars or whatever the dagos they
are, baiting  at my Lord  Ornery's, just becups they won  the egg  and spoon
there so ovally provencial at Balldole. My  Eilish assent he seed  makes his
admiracion. He is seeking  an opening  and means to be  first with me as his
belle  alliance. Andoo  musnoo play zeloso! Soso do todas. Such  is Spanish.
Stoop alittle closer, fealse! Delightsome simply!  Like Jolio and Romeune. I
haven't  fell  so turkish  for ages  and  ages! Mine's me of squisious,  the
chocolate  with a soul. Extraordinary! Why, what are they all, the mucky lot
of them only? Sht! I  wouldn't pay  three hairpins for  them. Peppt!  That's
rights, hold it steady! Leg me pull. Pu! Come big to Iran. Poo! What are you
nudging for? No, I just  thought you were. Listen, loviest! Of course it was
too  kind of  you,  miser,  to remember  my sighs  in  shockings,  my  often
expressed  wish when  you were wandering about my  trousseaurs and before  I
forget it don't forget, in your extensions to  my personality, when knotting
my remembrancetie, shoeweek will be trotting back with red  heels at the end
of  the  moon but look what  the fool  bought  cabbage head  and, as I shall
answer  to gracious  heaven,  I'll always  in always remind  of  snappy  new
girters, me being always the  one for charms with  my very best in proud and
gloving  even  if  he was  to be vermillion miles my  youth to live on,  the
rubberend  Mr  Polkingtone,  the  quonian  fleshmonger   who  Mother  Browne
solicited me for unlawful converse  with, with her mug of October (a pots on
it!),  creaking around on his  old shanksaxle like  a crosty old  cornquake.
Airman, waterwag, terrier, blazer! I'm fine, thanks ever! Ha! O mind you poo
tickly.  Sall I  puhim  in momou. Mummum. Funny spot  to have a  fingey! I'm
terribly sorry, I  swear to you I am ! May  you never  see me in my birthday
pelts seenso  tutu  and that her blanches mainges  may  rot  leprous off her
whatever winking maggis I'll bet by your cut you go fleurting after with all
the glass on her and the jumps in her stomewhere! Haha! I suspected she was!
Sink her! May they fire  her  for a barren ewe ! So she says:  Tay for thee?
Well, I saith: Angst so mush: and  desired she might not  take it amiss if I
esteemed  her  but an odd. If I did  ate toughturf I'm not a  mishymissy. Of
course I  know, pettest, you're so  learningful and considerate in yourself,
so friend of vegetables, you long cold cat you! Please by acquiester to meek
my acquointance! Codling, snakelet, iciclist! My diaper has more life to it!
Who drowned you in drears, man, or are you  pillale with ink? Did a weep get
past the gates of your  pride? My tread  on the clover, sweetness? Yes,  the
buttercups told me, hug me, damn it all,  and I'll kiss you back to life, my
peachest. I mean to make you suffer, meddlar, and  I don't care this fig for
contempt of courting. That I chid you,sweet sir? You know I'm  tender  by my
eye. Can't  you read by  dazzling ones  through me true? Bite  my laughters,
drink my tears. Pore into me, volumes, spell me stark and spill me swooning.
I just don't care what my thwarters think. Transname  me loveliness, now and
here  me for  all times ! I'd risk a  policeman passing  by, Magrath or even
that beggar  of a  boots at the Post. The flame? O, pardone!  That was what?
Ah,  did  you  speak,  stuffstuff?  More poestries  from  Chickspeer's  with
gleechoreal music or a  jaculation from the garden of the soul. Of I be leib
in  the immoralities? O, you mean the strangle for love and the sowiveall of
the prettiest? Yep, we open hap coseries in the home. And once upon a week I
improve on myself I'm so  keen on that New Free Woman with novel inside. I'm
always as tickled as can be over Man  in a Surplus by the Lady  who Pays the
Rates. But I'm as pie as is possible. Let's root out Brimstoker and give him
the thrall of our lives. It's Dracula's nightout. For creepsake don't make a
flush! Draw the shades, curfe you, and I'll beat any sonnamonk to love. Holy
bug, how my highness would jump to make you flame your halve a bannan in two
when I'd run my burning torchlight through (to adore me there and then cease
to be?  Whatever  for, blossoms?) Your  hairmejig if you  had  one. If  I am
laughing with you? No, lovingest, I'm not  so dying to take  my  rise out of
you,  adored. Not in the  very  least. True as God  made  my Mamaw hiplength
modesty coatmawther! It's only  because the rison is I'm only any girl,  you
lovely fellow  of my dreams, and because old somebooby  is not a roundabout,
my trysting of the tulipies,  like that puff  pape bucking Daveran assoiling
us behinds.  What a  nerve! He thinks  that's  what the vesprey's  for.  How
vain's that hope  in cleric's  heart  Who still  pursues th'adult' rous art,
Cocksure that rusty gown  of his Will make  fair  Sue forget his  phiz! Tame
Schwipps. Blessed Marguerite bosses,  I  hope  they threw away the  mould or
else  we'll  have  Ballshossers  and  Sourdamapplers   with  their   medical
assassiations all over the  place. But  hold hard till  I've got my latchkey
vote and I'll teach him when to wear what  woman callours. On account of the
gloss of the gleison Hasaboobrawbees  isabeaubel. And because, you pluckless
lankaloot,  I  hate the very  thought of the  thought of  you  and  because,
dearling, of  course, adorest, I was always meant for an engindear from  the
French college, to be musband,  nomme d'engien, when we do and contract with
encho  tencho  solver  when  you  are  married to  reading and writing which
pleasebusiness now  won't be long for he's so loopy  on me and  I'm so leapy
like since the day he carried me from the boat, my saviored of eroes, to the
beach and I left on his shoulder one fair hair to guide hand and mind to its
softness.  Ever  so  sorry! I beg  your pardon,  I  was  listening to  every
treasuried word I said  fell from my dear mot's tongue otherwise how could I
see what  you were thinking of our granny? Only I wondered if I threw out my
shaving  water.  Anyway, here's my  arm, pulletneck. Gracefully yours.  Move
your  mouth  towards  minth, more, preciousest,  more on more! To please me,
treasure.  Don't be  a, I'm not going to! Sh!  nothing!  A cricri somewhere!
Buybuy!  I'm fly!  Hear,  pippy, under  the limes. You know  bigtree are all
against gravstone.  They  hisshistenency.  Garnd ond  mand !  So  chip chirp
chirrup, cigolo, for the lug of Migo!  The little passdoor, I go you before,
so,  and you're at  my apron  stage. Shy is him, dovey? Musforget there's an
audience.   I  have  been  lost,  angel.  Cuddle,  ye  divil  ye!  It's  our
toot-a-toot. Hearhere! Sensation! Let them, their whole four courtships! Let
them, Bigbawl  and  his boosers'  eleven  makes twelve territorials. The Old
Sot's Hole  that wants wide streets to commission their noisense in,  at the
Mitchells  v.  Nicholls. Aves Selvae  Acquae Valles!  And my waiting  twenty
classbirds, sitting on their stiles! Let me finger  their  eurhythmytic. And
you'll see if I'm selfthought. They're all  of them out  to please. Wait! In
the  name of. And all  the holly.  And some the  mistle  and it Saint  Yves.
Hoost! Ahem! There's Ada, Bett, Celia,  Delia,  Ena,  Fretta,  Gilda, Hilda,
Ita, Jess, Katty, Lou, (they  make me cough  as  sure as I read them)  Mina,
Nippa, Opsy,  Poll,  Queeniee, Ruth, Saucy, Trix, Una,  Vela, Wanda,  Xenia,
Yva, Zulma, Phoebe, Thelma. And Mee! The  reformatory boys is goaling in for
the  church  so  we've  all  comefeast  like  the  groupsuppers  and  caught
lipsolution from Anty Pravidance under penancies for myrtle sins. When their
bride  was married all my belles  began  ti  ting. A ring a ring a rosaring!
Then everyone  will hear of it. Whoses wishes is the farther to my thoughts.
But  I'll  plant them a poser for their nomanclatter. When they're out  with
the daynurse doing Chaperon  Mall.  Bright pigeons all over the whirrld will
fly with my  mistletoe message round their loveribboned necks and d crumb of
my cake for each  chasta dieva.  We  keeps  all and sundry  papers.  In  th'
amourlight, O  my darling! No, I swear to you  by Fibsburrow  churchdome and
Sainte Andr�e's  Undershift, by all I hold  secret from  my world and in  my
underworld of nighties and naughties and all  the other wonderwearlds! Close
your, notmust look! Now open, pet, your lips, pepette, like I used  my sweet
parted lipsabuss  with Dan Holohan of facetious memory taught me  after  the
flannel dance, with the proof of  love, up Smock  Alley  the first night  he
smelled pouder and I coloured beneath my  fan, pipetta mia, when you learned
me the linguo to melt. Whowham  would have ears like ours,  the blackhaired!
Do you  like that, silenzioso? Are you  enjoying,  this  same little  me, my
life, my love? Why do  you  like my whisping? Is it not divinely deluscious?
But in't it bafforyou? Misi misi! Tell me till my thrillme comes! I will not
break the seal. I am enjoying it still, I swear  I am! Why do you prefer its
in  these dark nets, if  why  may  ask,  my  sweetykins? Sh  sh! Longears is
flying. No, sweetissest, why would that ennoy me? But don't! You  want to be
slap well slapped  for that. Your delighted lips, love, be  careful! Mind my
duvetyne  dress above  all!  It's  golded  silvy, the newest  sextones  with
princess effect. For Rutland blue's got out of  passion. So, so, my precious
! O,  I can see the cost, chare! Don't tell me! Why, the boy in sheeps' lane
knows that. If I sell whose,  dears? Was I sold here' tears?  You mean those
conversation  lozenges? How  awful!  The bold  shame  of  me  !  I wouldn't,
chickens, not for all  the juliettes in the twinkly  way!  I could snap them
when I see them winking at me in bed. I didn't  did so, my  intended, or was
going  to or  thinking  of. Shshsh!  Don't  start like  that, you  wretch! I
thought ye knew all and more, ye aucthor, to explique to ones the significat
of their exsystems with your nieu nivulon lead. It's only another queer fish
or other in Brinbrou's damned  old trouchorous  river again, Gothewishegoths
bless  us  and  spare her! And  gibos rest from  the  bosso ! Excuse me  for
swearing,  love, I swear to  the sorrasims  on their trons of Uian I  didn't
mean to by  this alpin  armlet!  Did you really never  in all our  cantalang
lives speak clothse to a girl's before? No! Not even to the charmermaid? How
marfellows! Of course I believe you, my own dear doting liest, when you tell
me.  As I'd  live to, O, I'd love to! Liss,  liss!  I muss whiss! Never that
ever or I can remember dearstreaming faces,  you may go through me! Never in
all my whole white life of my matchless and pair. Or ever  for bitter be the
frucht  of this hour! With my whiteness I thee woo and bind my silk breasths
I  thee bound!  Always,  Amory,  amor  andmore!  Till  always,  thou lovest!
Shshshsh! So long as the lucksmith. Laughs!
     II. If  you met on  the  binge a poor acheseyeld from Ailing,  when the
tune of his  tremble shook shimmy on shin, while his countrary  raged in the
weak of his wailing, like  a rugilant pugilant Lyon  O'Lynn; if he maundered
in misliness,  plaining  his  plight or,  played fox and lice,  pricking and
dropping  hips  teeth,  or  wringing  his handcuffs  for  peace,  the  blind
blighter,  praying  Dieuf and Domb Nostrums  foh thomethinks  to eath; if he
weapt while  he leapt and guffalled quith a quhimper, made cold blood a blue
mundy and  no  bones without flech, taking kiss, kake or  kick with  a suck,
sigh or simper, a diffle to  larn and a dibble to lech;  if the fain shinner
pegged  you to shave  his  immartial, wee skillmustered shoul with his  ooh,
hoodoodoo ! broking wind that to wiles, woemaid sin he was partial, we don't
think, Jones, we'd care to this evening, would you?
     Answer:  No, blank ye! So you think I have impulsivism? Did  they  tell
you I am one of the fortysixths?  And I suppose you heard I had a  wag on my
ears? And I  suppose they  told you too that my roll of life is not natural?
But before proceeding to conclusively confute this begging question it would
be  far  fitter for  you,  if  you dare! to  hasitate to  consult  with  and
consequentially  attempt  at  my  disposale  of the  same  dime-cash problem
elsewhere naturalistically of  course, from the blinkpoint of  so  eminent a
spatialist.  From it you will  here notice,  Schott, upon  my for  the first
remarking you that  the sophology of Bitchson  while  driven  as under  by a
purely  dime-dime  urge  is not without  his  cashcash  characktericksticks,
borrowed for  its nonce ends from the fiery goodmother Miss Fortune (who the
lost time we had the pleasure we  have had our little recherch�  brush with,
what, Schott?) and as I further could  have told you as brisk as your D.B.C.
behaviouristically paillet�  with a coat of homoid icing which is in reality
only a  done by chance ridiculisation  of  the  whoo-whoo and where's  hairs
theorics of Winestain. To put it all the more plumbsily. The speechform is a
mere sorrogate. Whilst the quality and tality (I shall explex what you ought
to  mean by  this with  its  proper when  and where  and why and how  in the
subsequent sentence) are alternativomentally harrogate and  arrogate, as the
gates may be.
     Talis  is a  word often abused  by many  passims (I  am working  out  a
quantum theory about it for it is really most tantumising state of affairs).
A pessim may  frequent  you to say: Have you been seeing much  of  Talis and
Talis those times? optimately meaning:  Will you put up at hree of irish? Or
a ladyeater may perhaps have casualised as you temptoed her ... la sourdine:
Of your plates?  Is  Talis de  Talis, the swordswallower,  who is on  at the
Craterium the same Talis von Talis, the penscrusher, no  funk you ! who runs
his duly mile?  Or this is a perhaps cleaner example. At a recent postvortex
piece infustigation of a determinised case of chronic spinosis  an extension
lecturer on The Ague who out of matter of form was trying his seesers,  Dr's
Het Ubeleeft, borrowed the question:  Why's which Suchman's talis qualis? to
whom, as a fatter of  macht, Dr Gedankje  of  Stoutgirth, who was wiping his
whistle, toarsely retoarted:  While thou  beast' one zoom of a whorl! (Talis
and Talis originally mean the same thing, hit it's: Qualis.)
     Professor Loewy-Brueller (though  as  I shall promptly prove  his whole
account of  the Sennacherib  as  distinct from  the Shalmanesir sanitational
reforms  and of the Mr Skekels  and Dr Hydes problem in the  same connection
differs toto coelo from the fruit  of my own investigations  --  though  the
reason I went to Jericho must remain for certain reasons  a political secret
--  especially as I  shall shortly be  wanted  in  Cavantry, I  congratulate
myself, for the same and other reasons -- as being again hopelessly vitiated
by  what I  have now resolved to call the dime  and cash diamond fallacy) in
his  talked off confession which recently  met with such a leonine uproar on
its escape after its confinement Why am I not born like a Gentileman and why
am I now so speakable about  my own  eatables (Feigenbaumblatt  and  Father,
Judapest, 5688,  A.M.)  whole-heartedly takes off  his  gabbercoat and  wig,
honest  draughty fellow, in his public interest, to make us see  how though,
as he says: 'by Allswill' the inception and the descent  and the endswell of
Man is temporarily wrapped  in obscenity, looking through at these accidents
with  the faroscope  of  television, (this nightlife instrument  needs still
some  subtractional betterment  in the  readjustment of the more refrangible
angles  to  the squeals of his  hypothesis  on the outer  tin sides),  I can
easily believe heartily in my own most spacious immensity as my ownhouse and
microbemost cosm when I am reassured by ratio that the cube of my volumes is
to the  surfaces of their subjects as the sphericity  of these globes (I  am
very pressing for a parliamentary motion this term which, under my guidance,
would establish the deleteriousness of  decorousness in the morbidisation of
the modern mandaboutwoman type) is to the feracity of Fairynelly's vacuum. I
need  not anthrapologise for any obintentional (I must here correct all that
school  of neoitalian or paleoparisien schola of  tinkers  and spanglers who
say  I'm  wrong  parcequeue  out of revolscian from romanitis I  want to be)
downtrodding on my foes. Professor Levi-Brullo, F.D. of SexeWeiman-Eitelnaky
finds, from  experiments  made  by  hinn  with his Nuremberg eggs in the one
hands and the watches cunldron apan the oven, though it is astensably a case
of Ket's rebollions cooling  the  Popes  back, because the  number of squeer
faiths  in  weekly  circulation  will  not  be  appreciably augmented by the
notherslogging of my cupolar clods.  What the romantic  in  rags pines after
like  all tomtompions haunting crevices for a  deadbeat  escupement and what
het  importunes  our  Mitleid  for  in  accornish  with  the  Mortadarthella
taradition  is the poorest commononguardiant waste of time. His  everpresent
toes are always  in retaliessian  out throuth his  overpast boots.  Hear him
squak!  Teek heet  to that  looswallawer how he  bolo the bat! Tyro a toray!
When Mullocky won the couple of colds,  when  we  were stripping  in  number
three, I would like the neat drop that would malt in my mouth but  I fail to
see when  (I am purposely refraining from expounding the obvious  fallacy as
to the  specific gravitates of the two deglutables implied nor to the lapses
lequou  asousiated  with  the   royal   gorge  through   students  of  mixed
hydrostatics  and  pneumodipsics will after some  difficulties  grapple away
with  my  meinungs). Myrrdin aloer! as  old  Marsellas Cambriannus puts his.
But, on Professor Llewellys  ap Bryllars, F.D., Ph. Dr's showings, the plea,
if he pleads, is all posh and robbage on a melodeontic scale since his man's
when is no otherman's quandour (Mine, dank you?) while,-- for  aught I  care
for  the contrary,  the all is where in love as war and the plane  where  me
arts soar you'd aisy rouse a thunder from and where I cling true'tis there I
climb tree and where Innocent looks best (pick!) there's holly in his ives.
     As  my  explanations  here  are  probably  above  your  understandings,
lattlebrattons, though as augmentatively uncomparisoned as Cadwan, Cadwallon
and  Cadwalloner,  I  shall  revert  to  a  more  expletive method  which  I
frequently use when  I have to sermo with muddlecrass pupils. Imagine for my
purpose  that  you are a  squad  of  urchins,  snifflynosed,  goslingnecked,
clothyheaded, tangled  in your lacings,  tingled  in  your pants,  etsitaraw
etcicero. And you,  Bruno Nowlan,  take  your tongue out of  your inkpot! As
none of  you knows javanese I will give all my  easyfree translation  of the
old fabulist's parable.  Allaboy Minor, take your head out of your  satchel!
Audi, Joe Peters! Exaudi facts !
     The Mookse and The Gripes.
     Gentes  and  laitymen,  fullstoppers  and  semicolonials,  hybreds  and
lubberds !
     Eins within a space and a wearywide space it wast  ere wohned a Mookse.
The onesomeness wast alltolonely, archunsitslike,  broady oval, and a Mookse
he  would  a  walking go  (My  hood!  cries Antony Romeo),so one  grandsumer
evening, after a great morning and  his good supper of  gammon and spittish,
having flabelled his eyes, pilleoled his nostrils, vacticanated his ears and
palliumed his  throats, he put  on  his impermeable, seized his  impugnable,
harped  on his crown and stepped out of his immobile  De Rure Albo (socolled
becauld it was chalkfull of masterplasters and had borgeously letout gardens
strown with cascadas, pintacostecas, horthoducts and currycombs) and set off
from Ludstown a spasso to see how badness was badness in the weirdest of all
pensible ways.
     As he  set off  with his  father's  sword, his lancia spezzata, he  was
girded on, and with that between his legs and his tarkeels, our once in only
Bragspear, he clanked, to my clinking,  from veetoes to threetop, every inch
of an immortal.
     He had not walked over a pentiadpair of parsecs  from his  azylium when
at    the    turning    of    the    Shinshone     Lanteran    near    Saint
Bowery's-without-his-Walls  he  came (secunding to the one  one oneth of the
propecies, Amnis  Limina Permanent) upon the most unconsciously boggylooking
stream he  ever locked his eyes with. Out of  the colliens it took a rise by
daubing  itself Ninon. It looked little and it smelt of brown and it thought
in narrows  and  it talked showshallow. And as it rinn it dribbled like  any
lively  purliteasy: My, my, my! Me and me! Little down dream  don't  I  love
thee!
     And, I  declare, what was there on the yonder  bank of  the stream that
would  be  a river, parched  on a  limb of the olum, bolt downright, but the
Gripes?  And  no doubt he was fit to be dried for why had he not been having
the juice of his times?
     His pips  had been neatly all  drowned on him; his  polps were charging
odours every older minute; he was quickly for getting the dresser's desdaign
on  the  flyleaf of his frons; and he  was quietly  for giving the bailiff's
distrain on  to  the bulkside  of  his cul  de  Pompe. In all  his  specious
heavings, as  be  lived  by Optimus Maximus, the  Mookse  had never seen his
Dubville brooderon-low so nigh to a pickle.
     Adrian   (that   was   the   Mookse   now's   assumptinome)  stuccstill
phiz-...--phiz  to the Gripes in  an accessit of  aurignacian. But Allmookse
must to Moodend much as Allrouts, austereways or wastersways, in roaming run
through Room. Hic sor a stone, singularly illud, and on hoc stone Seter satt
huc sate which it  filled  quite poposterously and by acclammitation to  its
fullest justotoryum and whereopum with his unfallable encyclicling  upom his
alloilable, diupetriark of the wouest, and the athemystsprinkled pederect he
always walked with, Deusdedit, cheek by  jowel with his frisherman's blague?
Bellua Triumphanes, his everyway addedto wallat's collectium, for yea longer
he  lieved yea broader he betaught of it, the fetter, the summe and the haul
it  cost, he looked  the first and last  micahlike  laicness of Quartus  the
Fifth and Quintus  the Sixth  and Sixtus the Seventh giving allnight sitting
to Lio the Faultyfindth.
     -- Good appetite us, sir Mookse ! How do you  do it? cheeped the Gripes
in a  wherry whiggy maudelenian woice  and  the  jackasses  all  within bawl
laughed and  brayed for his  intentions  for they knew their sly  toad lowry
now.  I  am  rarumominum  blessed to see you, my dear mouster. Will you  not
perhopes tell me everything  if you are pleased, sanity? All about aulne and
lithial and allsall allinall about awn and liseias? Ney?
     Think of it! O miserendissimest retempter! A Gripes!
     -- Rats!  bullowed the Mookse most telesphorously, the concionator, and
the sissymusses and the zozzymusses in their robenhauses quailed to hear his
tardeynois at all for  you  cannot wake a  silken nouse out of a hoarse oar.
Blast yourself and your anathomy infairioriboos! No, hang you for  an animal
rurale! I am superbly in my supremest poncif! Abase you, baldyqueens! Gather
behind me, satraps! Rots!
     --  I  am till infinity obliged with you,  bowed the  Gripes, his whine
having  gone to his palpruy head. I am still always having a  wish on all my
extremities. By the watch, what is the time, pace?
     Figure it! The pining peever! To a Mookse!
     --  Ask  my index, mund my achilles,  swell my  obolum, woshup my  nase
serene, answered  the Mookse, rapidly  by  turning clement, urban, eugenious
and  celestian in the formose of good grogory humours. Quote awhore? That is
quite about what I came on  my missions  with my intentions  laudibiliter to
settle  with  you, barbarousse. Let thor be orlog. Let Pauline be Irene. Let
you  be Beeton. And let  me be Los  Angeles. Now measure  your  length.  Now
estimate my  capacity. Well, sour? Is this space of our  couple of hours too
dimensional for you, temporiser? Will you give you up? Como? Fuert it?
     Sancta Patientia! You should have  heard  the voice that answered him !
Culla vosellina.
     -- I was just thinkling upon that, swees Mooksey, but, for all the rime
on my  raisins,  if I  connow make my submission, I cannos give you up,  the
Gripes      whimpered     from     nethermost      of      his      wanhope.
Ishallassoboundbewilsothoutoosezit. My  tumble, loudy  bullocker, is my own.
My velicity  is too fit  in  one stockend.  And my spetial inexshellsis  the
belowing things ab ove. But I will never be abler to tell Your Honoriousness
(here  he  near  lost  his   limb)  though  my  corked  father  was  bott  a
pseudowaiter, whose o'cloak you ware.
     Incredible! Well, hear the inevitable.
     --   Your   temple,  sus  in  cribro!   Semperexcommunicambiambisumers.
Tugurios-in-Newrobe  or Tukurias-in-Ashies. Novarome, my  creature, blievend
bleives. My building space in lyonine city is always to let to leonlike Men,
the  Mookse in a most consistorous  allocution pompifically  with  immediate
jurisdiction constantinently concludded (what a crammer for the shapewrucked
Gripes!). And I regret to proclaim that it is out of my temporal to help you
from being killed by  inchies, (what a thrust!), as we first  met each other
newwhere  so airly.  (Poor little sowsieved  subsquashed Gripes! I  begin to
feel  contemption  for  him!).  My  side,thank  decretals,  is  as  safe  as
motherour's houses, he continued,  and I can  seen from my holeydome what it
is  to be  wholly  sane. Unionjok  and  be joined to yok! Parysis, tu  sais,
crucycrooks, belongs to him who parises himself. And there I must  leave you
subject for the pressing. I  can prove that against you, weight  a momentum,
mein  goot enemy! or Cospol's not our star.  I bet you this dozen odd.  This
foluminous  dozen  odd.  Quas primas  --  but  'tis  bitter  to  compote  my
knowledge's fructos of. Tomes.
     Elevating, to  give peint  to  his blick, his jewelled pederect to  the
allmysty cielung, he luckystruck blueild out of a few shouldbe  santillants,
a cloister of starabouts  over Maples,  a lucciolys in  Teresa street  and a
stopsign  before  Sophy Barratt's, he gaddered togodder the  odds docence of
his vellumes, gresk, letton and russicruxian, onto the lapse of his prolegs,
into umfullth onescuppered, and sat about  his widerproof  He proved it well
whoonearth  dry  and  drysick  times,  and  vremiament,  tu cesses,  to  the
extinction of  Niklaus  altogether (Niklaus  Alopysius having been the  once
Gripes's  popwilled nimbum) by  Neuclidius  and Inexagoras  and  Mumfsen and
Thumpsem, by Orasmus and by Amenius, by Anacletus the Jew and by Malachy the
Augurer  and by the Cappon's  collection  and  after  that,  with  Cheekee's
gelatine and Alldaybrandy's formolon, he reproved it  ehrltogether when  not
in that  order sundering in  some different order, alter three thirty and  a
hundred  times by the binomial dioram  and the  penic walls and the ind, the
Inklespill legends  and  the rure, the  rule of the hoop and the blessons of
expedience  and  the  jus,  the  jugicants of  Pontius  Pilax  and  all  the
mummyscrips in Sick Bokes' Juncroom and  the Chapters for the Cunning of the
Chapters of the Conning Fox by Tail.
     While  that  Mooksius   with  preprocession  and   with  proprecession,
duplicitly and  diplussedly,  was promulgating ipsofacts and sadcontras this
raskolly   Gripos   he   had   allbust   seceded   in   monophysicking   his
illsobordunates.  But   asawfulas   he  had   caught   his  base  semenoyous
sarchnaktiers  to  combuccinate  upon the silipses of his aspillouts and the
acheporeoozers  of  his  haggyown   pneumax  to   synerethetise   with   the
breadchestviousness of his sweeatovular ducose sofarfully the loggerthuds of
his  sakellaries were fond  at variance with the synodals of his somepooliom
and his babskissed nepogreasymost got the hoof from his philioquus.
     -- Efter thousand yaws, O Gripes con my sheepskins, yow will be belined
to the world, enscayed Mookse the pius.
     --  Ofter  thousand yores, amsered Gripes  the  gregary, be the goat of
MacHammud's, yours may be still, O Mookse, more botheared.
     -- Us shall be chosen as the first of the last by the electress of Vale
Hollow, obselved the Mookse nobily, for par the unicum of Elelijiacks, Us am
in Our stabulary and that is what Ruby and Roby fall for, blissim.
     The Pills, the Nasal Wash (Yardly's),  the Army  Man Cut, as british as
bondstrict  and  as  straightcut  as when that brokenarched  traveller  from
Nuzuland . . .
     -- Wee,  cumfused the Gripes limply,  shall not even be the last of the
first,  wee hope,  when  oust are visitated  by  the Veiled  Horror. And, he
added: Mee are relying entirely,  see the fortethurd  of  Elissabed, on  the
weightiness of mear's breath. Puffut!
     Unsightbared embouscher, relentless foe to social  and business succes!
(Hourihaleine) It might have been a happy evening but . . .
     And  they  viterberated each other, canis et  coluber  with the wildest
ever wielded since Tarriestinus lashed Pissasphaltium.
     -- Unuchorn!
     -- Ungulant!
     -- Uvuloid !
     -- Uskybeak!
     And bullfolly answered volleyball.
     Nuvoletta  in  her lightdress,  spunn of  sisteen shimmers, was looking
down on them, leaning over the bannistars and listening  all  she childishly
could.  How  she was brightened when Shouldrups in  his glaubering hochskied
his  welkinstuck  and how she was overclused when Kneesknobs  on his zwivvel
was  makeacting  such a paulse  of  himshelp! She was alone. All  her nubied
companions were asleeping with the squirrels. Their mivver, Mrs Moonan,  was
off in the Fuerst quarter scrubbing the backsteps of Number 28. Fuvver, that
Skand,  he  was up  in  Norwood's  sokaparlour, eating  oceans  of  Voking's
Blemish. Nuvoletta listened as she  reflected  herself, though the  heavenly
one with his constellatria  and his emanations  stood between, and she tried
all  she tried to make the  Mookse  look  up  at  her (but  he was fore  too
adiaptotously  farseeing) and  to make the Gripes hear how coy  she could be
(though he was  much  too  schystimatically auricular about his  ens to heed
her) but  it was all  mild's vapour  moist.  Not even her feignt reflection,
Nuvoluccia,  could  they  toke  their  gnoses  off  for  their  minds   with
intrepifide fate and bungless  curiasity,  were conclaved with Heliogobbleus
and Commodus and Enobarbarus and  whatever the coordinal dickens they did as
their  damprauch of  papyrs  and  buchstubs  said.  As  if  that  was  their
spiration! As if  theirs could duiparate her queendim!  As if she  would  be
third perty  to  search  on search  proceedings! She tried  all  the winsome
wonsome  ways   her   four   winds   had   taught   her.  She   tossed   her
sfumastelliacinous hair like le princesse  de  la  Petite  Bretagne and  she
rounded  her mignons  arms like  Mrs  Cornwallis-West  and  she  smiled over
herself like  the beauty of the image of  the pose of  the  daughter  of the
queen of the Emperour of Irelande and she sighed  after herself as  were she
born to bride with Tristis Tristior Tristissimus.  But, sweet madonine,  she
might  fair  as  well  have  carried  her daisy's worth to  Florida. For the
Mookse, a dogmad Accanite,  were not  amoosed and  the Gripes, a dubliboused
Catalick, wis pinefully obliviscent.
     I see, she sighed. There are menner.
     The siss of the  whisp of  the sigh of the  softzing at the stir of the
ver grose  O arundo  of  a  long  one in  midias reeds: and  shades began to
glidder along the banks, greepsing, greepsing, duusk unto duusk,  and it was
as  glooming  as gloaming  could be in  the waste  of  all  peacable worlds.
Metamnisia was allsoonome  coloroform brune;  citherior  spiane an eaulande,
innemorous  and unnumerose.  The Mookse had a sound  eyes right but he could
not all hear. The Gripes had light  ears left yet he  could  but ill see. He
ceased. And he ceased, tung and trit, and it was neversoever so dusk of both
of  them. But  still  Moo  thought  on  the  deeps of  the undths  he  would
profoundth  come the morrokse and still  Gri feeled of  the scripes he would
escipe if by grice he had luck enoupes.
     Oh, how it was  duusk! From  Vallee Maraia  to  Grasyaplaina, dormimust
echo! Ah dew! Ah dew! It was so duusk that the tears of night began to fall,
first by ones and twos, then by threes and fours, at last by fives and sixes
of sevens,  for the tired ones were wecking, as we weep now with them. O! O!
O! Par la pluie!
     Then there came  down  to the  thither bank a woman of no appearance (I
believe  she was a Black with chills at her feet)  and she  gathered  up his
hoariness the Mookse motamourfully where he was spread and carried him  away
to  her invisible dwelling, thats hights,  Aquila Rapax, for he was the holy
sacred solem and poshup spit of her boshop's apron. So you see the Mookse he
had reason as I knew and you knew and he knew all along. And there came down
to  the hither  bank a woman to all important (though they say  that she was
comely, spite the cold in her heed) and, for he was as like it as blow it to
a hawker's  hank,  she plucked  down the  Gripes, torn panicky autotone,  in
angeu from his limb and  cariad away its  beotitubes with  her to her unseen
shieling, it is, De Rore Coeli.  And so the poor Gripes  got wrong; for that
is always how a Gripes is,  always was and always  will.be. And it was never
so thoughtful of either of them. And there were left now an only elmtree and
but a stone. Polled with pietrous, Sierre but saule. O!  Yes! And Nuvoletta,
a lass.
     Then Nuvoletta reflected for the last time in her  little long life and
she made up all her myriads of drifting minds  in one. She cancelled all her
engauzements. She climbed over the bannistars; she gave a childy cloudy cry:
Nu�e!  Nu�e! A lightdress  fluttered. She was gone. And into  the river that
had been a stream (for a  thousand of tears had gone eon her and come on her
and  she  was  stout  and  struck  on  dancing  and  her  muddied  name  was
Missisliffi) there fell  a tear, a singult tear, the  loveliest of all tears
(I mean for  those crylove fables  fans  who are  'keen' on the prettypretty
commonface sort of thing you meet by hopeharrods) for it was a leaptear. But
the river tripped on her  by and by, lapping as  though her heart was brook:
Why, why, why! Weh, O weh I'se so silly to be flowing but I no canna stay!
     No applause, please! Bast! The romescot nattleshaker will go round your
circulation in diu dursus.
     Allaboy, Major, I'll take your reactions in another place after themes.
Nolan Browne, you may now leave the classroom. Joe Peters, Fox.
     As I have now successfully explained to you my  own naturalborn rations
which  are  even in  excise of my vaultybrain insure me that  I am a mouth's
more deserving  case  by  genius. I  feel  in symbathos for  my ever devoted
friend  and  halfaloafonwashed,  Gnaccus  Gnoccovitch. Darling gem!  Darling
smallfox! Horoseshoew! I could love that  man like my own ambo for  being so
baileycliaver  though   he's  a  nawful  curillass  and  I   must  slav   to
methodiousness. I want him to go and live like  a theabild  in charge of the
night brigade  on Tristan da Cunha, isle of  manoverboard,  where he'll make
Number  106  and be  near Inaccessible. (The meeting of  mahoganies, be  the
waves, rementious me that this exposed sight though it pines for an umbrella
of  its  own  and needs a shelter belt of the true service sort  to keep its
boles clean, -- the weeping beeches, Picea and Tillia, are  in a wild  state
about  it --  ought  to  be classified, as Cricketbutt Willowm  and  his two
nurserymen advisers  suggested,  under genus  Inexhaustible when  we refloat
upon  all  the  butternat,  sweet gum and  manna ash  redcedera which  is so
purvulent there  as if there was howthorns in  Curraghchasa  which  ought to
look as  plane as  a lodgepole to  anybody until we are introduced  to  that
pinetacotta of Verney  Rubeus where the deodarty is pinctured  for  us in  a
pure stand, which we  do not  doubt ha has  a habitat of doing,  but without
those  selfsownseedlings  which are a  species  of  proof  that  the largest
individual can occur at or in an olivetion such  as East Conna Hillock where
it  mixes  with  foolth  accacians  and common sallies  and  is  tender) Vux
Populus, as we say in hickoryhockery and I wish we had  some more glasses of
arbor  vitae. Why  roat  by  the  roadside or  awn over  alum pot?  Alderman
Whitebeaver is dakyo. He ought  to go away for  a change of ideas  and  he'd
have  a  world  of things to  look  back on. Do,sweet Daniel! If I weren't a
jones in  myself I'd  elect  myself to be  his  dolphin in  the  wildsbillow
because he is  such  a barefooted rubber with my supersocks  pulled over his
face  which  I publicked in  my  bestback  garden  for  the laetification of
siderodromites and  to the  irony of  the stars.  You will  say  it is  most
unenglish and I shall hope to hear that you  will not be wrong about it. But
I further, feeling a bit husky in my truths.
     Will you  please come over and let  us mooremoore  murgessly  to each's
other down below our vices. I am underheerd by old  billfaust. Wilsh is full
of curks. The coolskittle  is philip deblinite. Mr Wist is thereover beyeind
the wantnot. Wilsh  and wist are as thick  of thins  udder  as  faust on the
deblinite.  Sgunoshooto estas preter la  tapizo malgranda. Lilegas  al si en
sia chambro. Kelkefoje funcktas, kelkefoje srumpas Shultroj. Houdian Kiel vi
fartas, mia nigra sinjoro? And from the poignt  of fun where I am crying  to
arrive you at they are  on allfore  as foibleminded as you can feel they are
fablebodied.
     My heeders will recoil with  a great leisure how at the outbreak before
trespassing on the space question where even  michelangelines have fooled to
dread  I  proved to mindself  as  to your  sotisfiction how  his abject  all
through (the quickquid of Professor Ciondolone's too frequently hypothecated
Bettlermensch) is  nothing so much more than a mere cashdime however genteel
he may want ours, if  we  please (I am speaking to us in the second person),
for to this graded intellecktuals dime is cash and the cash system (you must
not be allowed to forget that this is all contained, I  mean the system,  in
the dogmarks of origen on spurios) means that I cannot now have or nothave a
piece of cheeps in your pocket at the same time and with the same manners as
you can now  nothalf or half the cheek apiece I've in mind unless Burrus and
Caseous  have  not or  not have  seemaultaneously  sysentangled  themselves,
selldear to soldthere, once in the dairy days of buy and buy.
     Burrus, let us  like to  imagine, is a genuine prime,  the real choice,
full of natural greace, the mildest of milkstoffs yet unbeaten as a risicide
and, of course,  obsoletely  unadulterous whereat  Caseous is obversely  the
revise of him and in  fact  not  an ideal  choose by any  meals,  though the
betterman of  the  two is meltingly addicted to the more casual side of  the
arrivaliste  case  and,  let me say it at  once, as  zealous over him  as is
passably  he. The seemsame home and histry seeks and hidepence which we used
to be reading for our prepurgatory, hot, Schott? till Duddy shut the shopper
op and Mutti, poor  Mutti! brought us our poor  suppy, (ah who!  eh how!) in
Acetius and Oleosus and Sellius Volatilis and Petrus Papricus! Our Old Party
quite united  round  the Slatbowel at Commons: Pfarrer Salamoss himself  and
that  sprog  of  a Pedersill  and his Sprig  of  Thyme and a  dozen  of  the
Murphybuds and a  score and more of the hot young Capels and Lettucia in her
greensleeves and  you too and me three, twinsome bibs but hansome ates, like
shakespill and  eggs! But there's  many a  split pretext bowl and  jowl; and
(snob screwing that  cork, Schott!)  to understand this as  well as you can,
feeling  how backward  you  are in your  down-to-the-ground benches, I  have
completed the  following arrangement for the coarse use  of stools and  if I
don't make away with you I'm beyond Caesar outnullused
     The older  sisars  (Tyrants,  regicide  is  too good  for you!)  become
unbeurrable from age, (the compositor of the farce of  dustiny however makes
a thunpledrum mistake by letting off this pienofarte effect as his furst act
as  that  is  where the  juke comes in)  having  been sort-of-nineknived and
chewly removed (this soldier --  author -- batman for  all his commontoryism
is  just  another  of  those  souftsiezed  bubbles  who  never quite got the
sandhurst out of his  eyes so that  the champaign he draws for us is as flop
as a plankrieg) the  twinfreer types are billed  to make their reupprearance
as the knew kneck  and knife knickknots on the deserted champ de bouteilles.
(A  most  cursery  reading into the  Persic-Uraliens hostery  shows  us  how
Fonnumagula picked up  that propper numen  out of a  colluction of  prifixes
though to the permienting cannasure the Coucousien oafsprung of this  sun of
a  kuk is as sattin as there's a tub in Tobolosk) Ostiak della Vogul Marina!
But  that  I dannoy  the fact of wanton to weste  point I could paint you to
that  butter  (cheese it!) if  you had some  wash.  Mordvealive! Oh  me none
onsens!  Why the  case  is  as inessive and impossive as  kezom hands! Their
interlocative  is  conprovocative  just  as  every  hazzy  hates to having a
hazbane in her noze. Caseous may bethink himself a thought of a caviller but
Burrus  has  the reachly roundered  head that  goes best  with  thofthinking
defensive fideism. He  has the lac  of wisdom under every dent in his lofter
while the other  follow's onni  vesy milky  indeedmymy.  Laughing  over  the
linnuts and weeping off  the  uniun. He hisn't the hey og he lisn't the lug,
poohoo. And each night sim  misses mand he  winks he had the semagen. It was
aptly and corrigidly stated (and, it is  royally needless for one  ex  ungue
Leonem to  say by whom) that his seeingscraft was  that clarety  as were the
wholeborough of Poutresbourg to be averlaunched over him pitchbatch he could
still make out with  his augstritch the green  moat in Ireland's Eye. Let me
sell you the fulltroth of Burrus when he  wore a younker. Here  it  is,  and
chorming too, in six by sevens! A cleanly line, by the gods! A king off duty
and  a jaw  for ever!  And what a  cheery ripe outlook, good help  me Deus v
Deus!  If I were  to speak my  ohole mouthful to arinam about it you  should
call me the ormuzd aliment in your  midst  of faime. Eat ye up, heat  ye up!
sings the somun in the salm. Butyrum et mel comedet ut sciat reprobare malum
et eligere bonum.  This, of course, also explains why we were taught to play
in the childhood: Der Haensli ist ern Butterbrot, mein Butterbrot! Und Koebi
iss dein Schtinkenkot! Ja! Ja! Ja!
     This in fact, just  to show you, is Caseous, the  brutherscutch or puir
tyron:  a  hole  or two, the highstinks aforefelt and anygo  prigging wurms.
Cheesugh! you complain. And Hi Hi High must say you are not Hoa  Hoa  Hoally
in the wrong!
     Thus we  cannot  escape our  likes  and mislikes, exiles or ambusheers,
beggar and  neighbour and  -- this is where the dimeshow advertisers advance
the temporal relief plea --  let us be tolerant  of antipathies. Nex  quovis
burro num fit mercaseus? I  am not hereby giving my final endorsement to the
learned ignorants  of the Cusanus philosophism in which old Nicholas pegs it
down that the smarter the spin of the top the sounder the span of the buttom
(what the worthy old auberginiste ought to have meant was: the more stolidly
immobile in space appears to me the bottom which is presented to use in time
by the top primomobilisk &c.). And I shall be misunderstord if understood to
give  an unconditional sinequam to  the heroicised furibouts  of the Nolanus
theory, or, at any rate, of that substrate of apart from hissheory where the
Theophil swoors that on principial he was the pointing  start of his  odiose
by  comparison and that whiles eggs will fall cheapened all over  the walled
the Bure will be dear on the Brie.
     Now,  while  I  am  not out  now to  be  taken  up  as  unintentionally
recommending  the  Silkebjorg tyrondynamon machine  for the more  economical
helixtrolysis of these amboadipates  until I  can find space to look into it
myself  a  little more  closely first I shall go on  with my decisions after
having shown  to you in good time  how both products of  our social  stomach
(the  excellent  Dr  Burroman,  I noticed by the way from  his  emended food
theory, has been carefully digesting  the very wholesome criticism I  helped
him  to  in  my  princeps  edition which is  all so  munch to  the  cud) are
mutuearly  polarised  the  incompatabilily  of  any  delusional   acting  as
ambivalent to the  fixation of his  pivotism. Positing, as above,  too males
pooles, the one the pictor of the other and the omber the Skotia of the one,
and looking wantingly around our undistributed  middle between males we feel
we  must  waistfully  woent  a  female  to  focus  and  on  this stage there
pleasantly  appears the  cowrymaid  M.  whom we shall  often meet below  who
introduces herself upon us at  some  precise hour which we shall again agree
to call  absolute zero or the babbling pumpt of  platinism. And so like that
former son of a kish who went up and out to found his farmer's ashes we come
down home gently on our own turnedabout asses to meet Margareen.
     We now  romp  through  a  period of pure lyricism  of  shamebred  music
(technologically, let me say, the appetising entry of this subject on a fool
chest of vialds is plumply pudding the carp before doevre hors) evidenced by
such  words  in distress as I cream for  thee, Sweet Margareen, and the more
hopeful O Margareena! O Margareena! Still in the  bowl  is  left  a lump  of
gold!  (Correspondents, by  the  way, will  keep on  asking  me  what is the
correct  garnish  to  serve  drisheens   with.  Tansy  Sauce.  Enough).  The
pawnbreaking  pathos  of the first of  these shoddy pieces reveals  it  as a
Caseous effort. Burrus's  bit is  often  used for a toast.  Criniculture can
tell us very precisely indeed how and  why this particular  streak of yellow
silver first appeared on (not in) the bowel, that is to see, the human head,
bald,  black, bronze, brown, brindled, betteraved or  blanchemanged where it
might be usefully compared with an  earwig on a  fullbottom.  I  am offering
this to Signorina Cuticura and I intend to take it up and bring it under the
nosetice of Herr Harlene by way  of diverting his attentions. Of  course the
unskilled  singer continues to  pervert  our wiser ears by subordinating the
space-element, that is to sing, the aria, to the time-factor, which ought to
be killed, ill tempor. I should  advise any  unborn singer  who may still be
among my heeders  to forget her  temporal diaphragm at home (the best  thing
that could  happen to  it!)  and  attack the roulade  with a swift colpo  di
glottide to the lug (though Maace I  will insist was reclined from overdoing
this, his recovery often being slow) and then, O ! on the third dead beat, O
! to cluse  her eyes and aiopen her oath and  see what spice I may send her.
How? Cease thee, cantatrickee! I fain would be solo. Arouse thee, my valour!
And save for e'er my true Bdur!
     I  shall  have a  word to  say  in a  few yards  about the acoustic and
orchidectural management of the tonehall but, as  ours  is a vivarious where
one plant's breaf  is  a lunger planner's byscent and you  may  not care for
argon, it will be very convenient for me for the emolument to  pursue Burrus
and  Caseous for a rung or two up  their  isocelating biangle. Every admirer
has seen my goulache of Marge (she  is so  like the sister, you don't  know,
and  they both  dress  A  L I  K E !) which I  titled The  Very Picture of a
Needlesswoman which in  the  presence ornates our national  cruetstand. This
genre of  portraiture of changes of mind in order to  be truly torse  should
evoke the bush soul of females  so I am leaving it to the experienced victim
to complete the general suggestion by the mental addition of a wallopy bound
or, should the zulugical zealot  prefer  it, a congorool teal. The  hatboxes
which  composed  Rhomba,  lady  Trabezond  (Marge  in  her  excelsis),  also
comprised the climactogram up which B and C may fondly be imagined ascending
and are suggestive of gentlemen's spring modes, these modes carrying us back
to the  superimposed claylayers of  eocene and pleastoseen formation and the
gradual   morphological   changes  in  our  body  politic  which   Professor
Ebahi-Ahuri  of  Philadespoinis (Ill)  -- whose bluebutterbust  I  have just
given  his  coupe de  grass  to -- neatly  names a bo�te  ... surprises. The
boxes, if I may break the subject gently, are worth about fourpence  pourbox
but I am inventing a more patent process, foolproof and pryperfect (I should
like to ask that Shedlock Homes person  who is out for removing the roofs of
our criminal classics by  what deductio  ad  domunum  he hopes  de tacto  to
detect anything  unless  he happens of himself,  movibile tectu,  to have  a
slade off) after which they can be reduced to a fragment of their true crust
by  even the  youngest  of Margees if she  will take plase to  be seated and
smile if I please.
     Now there  can be no  question  about it either that I having  done  as
much,  have quite  got the size  of that  demilitery young  female  (we will
continue  to  call her Marge) whose  types  may  be  met with in any  public
garden, wearing a very "dressy" affair, known as an "ethel" of instep length
and  with a  real fur,  reduced  to 3/9,  and  muffin cap to tone  (they are
"angelskin"  this  fall),  ostentatiously  hemming  apologetically over  the
shirtness of some  "sweet" garment, when she is not sitting on all the  free
benches avidously reading about "it" but ovidently on the look out for "him"
or  so  "thrilled" about  the best dressed  dolly pram  and beautiful  elbow
competition or at the movies swallowing sobs and blowing bixed mixcuits over
"childe"  chaplain's  "latest"  or  on  the  verge  of the gutter  with some
bobbedhair brieffrocked  babyma's toddler  (the Smythe-Smythes  now keep TWO
domestics and  aspire  to  THREE male ones,  a  shover,  a  butlegger and  a
sectary) held hostage at armslength, teaching His Infant Majesty how to make
waters worse.
     (I am closely watching Master Pules, as I  have regions to suspect from
my post that her "litde man" is a secondary  schoolteacher under  the boards
of education,  a  voted disciple  of Infantulus  who is  being utilised thus
publicly  by  the  seducente  infanta  to  conceal  her  own  more  mascular
personality by flaunting frivolish finery over men's inside clothes, for the
femininny of that totamulier will always lack the musculink of a verumvirum.
My  solotions  for the proper  parturience  of matres and the  education  of
micturious mites must stand over from the moment till I tackle  this tickler
hussy for occupying my uttentions.)
     Margareena  she's very  fond of Burrus but, alick and alack! she  velly
fond  of  chee. (The important influence exercised  on  everything  by  this
eastasian  import  has  not  been  till  now fully  flavoured though  we can
comfortably taste it in this case.  I shall  come back for a little more say
farther on.)  A cleopatrician in her own right  she at once complicates  the
position  while  Burrus  and  Caseous  are contending  for  her  misstery by
implicating herself  with an elusive Antonius, a wop who would appear to hug
a  personal  interest in refined  chees of all chades at the same time as he
wags   an   antomine    art   of   being    rude   like   the   boor.   This
Antonius-Burrus-Caseous  grouptriad  may  be  said  to  equate  the   qualis
equivalent with the older socalled  talis on talis one just as quantly as in
the hyperchemical economantarchy  the tantum ergons irruminate  the  quantum
urge so that eggs  is to whey as whay is to zeed like  your  golfchild's abe
boob caddy.  And  this is why any simple philadolphus of  a fool you like to
dress,  an  athemisthued  lowtownian, exlegged  phatrisight, may be  awfully
green to one side of him and  fruitfully blue  on the other which  will  not
screen  him  however  from appealing  to my gropesarching  eyes, through the
strongholes of my acropoll, as a boosted  blasted  bleating blatant  bloaten
blasphorus blesphorous idiot who kennot tail a bomb from a painapple when he
steals  one  and wannot psing  his psalmen with the  cong in our gregational
pompoms with the canting crew.
     No! Topsman to your Tarpeia! This thing, Mister Abby,  is nefand. (And,
taking off soutstuffs and alkalike matters, I hope we can kill time to reach
the salt because  there's some  forceglass  neutric assets  bittering in the
soldpewter for  you  to plump  your  pottage in). The thundering  legion has
stormed Olymp that it end. Twelve tabular  times till now have I edicted it.
Merus Genius to Careous Caseous!  Moriture,  te salutat!  My phemous  themis
race  is run, so let  Demoncracy  take the highmost! (Abraham Tripier. Those
old  diligences are quite  out of date. Read next  answer). I'll beat you so
lon.  (Bigtempered.  Why not take direct  action.  See  previous reply).  My
unchanging Word is sacred. The word  is my Wife, to exponse and  expound, to
vend and to velnerate, and may the curlews crown our nuptias! Till Breath us
depart!  Wamen. Beware would  you change with my years. Be as  young as your
grandmother!  The ring man in  the rong  shop but the rite words by the rote
order! Ubi lingua nuncupassit, ibi fas! Adversus hostem semper sac! She that
will  not  feel my  fulmoon  let  her peel  to  thee as the hoyden  and  the
impudent! That mon  that  hoth  no  moses in his sole  nor  is  not  awed by
conquists of word's law, who never with humself was fed and leaves  his soil
to lave his  head, when his hope's in his highlows from whisking his woe, if
he came to  my preach, a  proud  pursebroken ranger, when  the  heavens were
welling the spite of their spout, to beg for a bite in our  bark Noisdanger,
would meself  and Mac Jeffet, four-in-hand, foot him out?  -- ay! -- were he
my own breastbrother, my doubled withd love and my  singlebiassed hate, were
we bread by the  same fire and signed with the same salt, had we tapped from
the same master and robbed the same till, were we tucked in the one bed  and
bit by  the one flea, homogallant  and hemycapnoise, bum and dingo, jack  by
churl, though it broke my heart to pray it, still I'd fear I'd hate to say!
     12. Sacer esto?
     Answer: Semus sumus!

Chapter 7

     Shem is as short for Shemus as Jem is joky for  Jacob. A few toughnecks
are  still getatable  who  pretend that  aboriginally he was of  respectable
stemming (he was an outlex between the lines of Ragonar Blaubarb ant Horrild
Hairwire and an inlaw to  Capt. the Hon. and Rev. Mr Bbyrdwood de Trop Blogg
was among his most distant connections)  but every honest to goodness man in
the land of the space of today knows that his back life will not stand being
written about in black and white. Putting  truth and untruth together a shot
may be made at what this hybrid actually was like to look at.
     Shem's bodily getup, it seems, included an adze of a skull, an eight of
a larkseye,  the whoel of a nose,  one numb arm up a sleeve,  fortytwo hairs
off  his  uncrown,  eighteen  to  his mock lip,  a  trio of barbels from his
megageg chin (sowman's son),  the wrong shoulder higher than the right,  all
ears, an artificial  tongue with  a natural curl, not  a foot to stand on, a
handful of thumbs, a blind stomach, a deaf heart, a loose liver, two  fifths
of two  buttocks, one gleetsteen avoirdupoider  for  him, a manroot  of  all
evil,  a  salmonkelt's  thinskin, eelsblood  in  his-cold  toes,  a  bladder
tristended, so much so that young Master Shemmy on his very first debouch at
the very  dawn of protohistory seeing  himself such  and such, when  playing
with thistlewords in their garden nursery,  Griefotrofio, at Phig Streat III
Shuvlin, Old Hoeland, (would we  go back there now for sounds, pillings  and
sense? would we now for annas and annas? would we for fullscore eight  and a
liretta? for twelve blocks one bob? for four testers one groat?  not  for  a
dinar! not for jo!) dictited to of all his little brothron  and sweestureens
the first riddle of the universe: asking,  when is a man not a man?: telling
them take their time, yungfries,  and wait till the tide stops (for from the
first his day was a fortnight) and offering the prize of a bittersweet crab,
a little present from  the  past, for their copper  age was yet unminted, to
the  winner.  One said  when the  heavens are quakers, a  second  said  when
Bohemeand lips, a third said when he, no, when hold hard a jiffy, when he is
a gnawstick and  detarmined to, the  next one said when the  angel  of death
kicks the  bucket of life, still another  said when the wine's at  witsends,
and still  another  when lovely  wooman  stoops to  conk  him,  one  of  the
littliest said  me,  me, Sem, when pappa  papared  the harbour, one  of  the
wittiest said, when he yeat ye abblokooken and  he zmear hezelf  zo zhooken,
still  one  said  when you are  old I'm grey fall full wi  sleep, and  still
another  when wee deader  walkner, and  another  when he is  just only after
having being semisized, another when yea, he hath  no mananas, and one  when
dose pigs they begin now  that they will flies up intil  the looft. All were
wrong,  so  Shem himself, the doctator, took  the cake, the correct solution
being -- all give it up? -- ; when he is a -- yours till the rending of  the
rocks, -- Sham.
     Shem was a sham and a low sham and his  lowness  creeped out first  via
foodstuffs. So low was he that he  preferred Gibsen's teatime salmon tinned,
as inexpensive  as pleasing,  to  the plumpest roeheavy lax or the friskiest
parr or  smolt  troutlet  that ever was  gaffed between  Leixlip  and Island
Bridge and many was the time he repeated in his botulism that no junglegrown
pineapple  ever smacked like  the whoppers you shook  out  of Ananias' cans,
Findlater and  Gladstone's,  Corner House,  Englend.  None of your inchthick
blueblooded Balaclava  fried-at-belief-stakes  or  juicejelly  legs  of  the
Grex's molten mutton or greasilygristly grunters' goupons or slice upon slab
of  luscious goosebosom with  lump after  load of  plumpudding  stuffing all
aswim in a swamp of bogoakgravy for that greekenhearted yude! Rosbif  of Old
Zealand! he  could not attouch it. See  what  happens  when your somatophage
merman  takes  his  fancy to  our virgitarian swan?  He  even ran  away with
hunself and became a farsoonerite, saying he would far sooner muddle through
the  hash of lentils in  Europe than meddle with Irrland's split little pea.
Once when among those  rebels in a state of hopelessly helpless intoxication
the piscivore strove to lift a czitround peel to either nostril, hiccupping,
apparently impromptued by the  hibat he had with his glottal stop,  that  he
kukkakould  flowrish for ever by the  smell,  as  the czitr, as the kcedron,
like a scedar,  of the founts, on mountains,  with limon  on, of Lebanon. O!
the  lowness of him was  beneath all  up  to  that  sunk to!  No likedbylike
firewater or firstserved  firstshot or  gulletburn gin or honest brewbarrett
beer  either.   O  dear  no!  Instead  the  tragic  jester   sobbed  himself
wheywhingingly  sick  of  life  on  some  sort of  a  rhubarbarous maundarin
yellagreen  funkleblue   windigut  diodying  applejack  squeezed  from  sour
grapefruice and,  to  hear  him  twixt his sedimental  cupslips when  he had
gulfed down mmmmuch too mmmmany gourds of it  retching off to almost as  low
withswillers, who always knew  notwithstanding when they had had  enough and
were rightly indignant at  the wretch's hospitality when they found to their
horror  they could not carry  another drop, it came straight from the  noble
white  fat, jo,  openwide sat, jo, jo, her why hide  that,  jo  jo  jo,  the
winevat, of  the most  serene magyansty az archdiochesse, if  she is a duck,
she's a douches, and when  she  has a feherbour snot her fault,  now  is it?
artstouchups,  funny  you're  grinning at, fancy  you're in  her  yet, Fanny
Urinia.
     Aint that swell, hey? Peamengro! Talk about lowness! Any dog's quantity
of it visibly oozed out  thickly from this dirty little  blacking beetle for
the  very  fourth snap the  Tulloch-Turnbull  girl with her  coldblood kodak
shotted  the as yet unremuneranded  national apostate,  who was cowardly gun
and camera shy,  taking what he fondly thought was a short cut to Caer Fere,
Soak Amerigas, vias the shipsteam Pridewin,  after  having  buried a hatchet
not so  long before,  by the wrong goods exeunt, nummer  desh  to tren, into
Patatapapaveri's, fruiterers and musical  florists, with  his  Ciaho, chavi!
Sat shin, shillipen? she knew the vice out  of bridewell was a  bad fast man
by his walk on the spot.
     [Johns is a different butcher's.  Next place you are up town pay  him a
visit. Or  better still, come tobuy. You will enjoy cattlemen's spring meat.
Johns  is now  quite divorced from  baking.  Fattens, kills,  flays,  hangs,
draws, quarters and pieces. Feel his lambs  ! Ex ! Feel how sheap! Exex! His
liver too is great value, a spatiality! Exexexl COMMUNICATED.]
     Around that time, moravar, one generally, for luvvomony hoped or at any
rate suspected among morticians that he would  early tum out badly,  develop
hereditary  pulmonary T.B.,  and  do for himself one  dandy time,  nay, of a
pelting night blanketed creditors, hearing a coarse song and splash off Eden
Quay  sighed and rolled over, sure  all  was up, but, though he fell heavily
and locally into  debit, not even then could such an  antinomian be true  to
type. He would  not put  fire to his cerebrum; he would not throw himself in
Liffey;  he  would  not  explaud  himself with pneumantics;  he  refused  to
saffrocake himself with a  sod. With the foreign devil's leave the fraid bom
fraud diddled even death. Anzi,  cabled  (but shaking the worth  out of  his
maulth: Guardacosta leporello? Szasas Kraicz!) from his Nearapoblican asylum
to  his jonathan for a brother: Here tokay, gone tomory,  we're spluched, do
something, Fireless. And had answer: Inconvenient, David.
     You see,  chaps, it will trickle  out, freaksily of course, but the tom
and the shorty of it is: he  was in his bardic  memory low. All the time  he
kept  on  treasuring with condign  satisfaction  each  and  every  crumb  of
trektalk,  covetous of  his  neighbour's word, and if  ever,  during a Munda
conversazione  commoted in  the  nation's interest,  delicate  tippits  were
thrown out  to  him touching  his evil courses by  some  wellwishers, vainly
pleading by scriptural arguments with the opprobrious papist about trying to
brace  up for the kidos of the thing, Scally wag, and be a men instead of  a
dem  scrounger, dish it all,  such as: Pray, what is the  meaning, sousy, of
that continental  expression,  if  you ever  came acrux it, we think it is a
word transpiciously  like canaille?: or:  Did you anywhere, kennel,  on your
gullible's  travels  or  during  your rural troubadouring, happen to stumble
upon a  certain gay young nobleman whimpering to the  name of Low Swine  who
always addresses women out of the one comer of his mouth, lives on loans and
is furtivefree yours of age? without one sigh of haste like the supreme prig
he was, and not a bit sorry, he would  pull a vacant landlubber's face, root
with earwaker's pensile in the outer of his lauscher and then, lisping,  the
prattlepate parnella, to kill  time, and swatting his deadbest to think what
under  the  canopies  of  Jansens  Chrest  would  any  decent  son   of   an
Albiogenselman who had bin to an university think, let a lent hit a hint and
begin to tell all the  intelligentsia admitted  to that tamileasy samtalaisy
conclamazzione (since, still and before physicians, lawyers merchant, belfry
pollititians,  agricolous  manufraudurers,  sacrestanes  of  the  Pure River
Society, philanthropicks lodging on as  many boards round the panesthetic at
the same time as possible) the whole lifelong swrine story of his entire low
cornaille  existence, abusing his deceased ancestors wherever the  sods were
and  one moment tarabooming great blunderguns (poh!) about his farfamed fine
Poppamore, Mr Humhum, whom history, climate and entertainment made the first
of his sept  and always up to  debt,  though  Eavens ears  ow many fines  he
faces, and another moment visanvrerssas,cruaching three jeers (pah!) for his
rotten  little ghost of a Peppybeg, Mr Himmyshimmy, a  blighty,  a  reeky, a
lighty, a scrapy,  a babbly, a ninny, dirty seventh among thieves and always
bottom  sawyer,  till  nowan  knowed  how  howmely  howme  could be,  giving
unsolicited testimony on  behalf  of the absent, as  glib as  eaveswater  to
those present  (who  meanwhile,  with  increasing  lack of  interest  in his
semantics,  allowed various  subconscious smickers to drivel  slowly  across
their fichers), unconsciously explaining, for inkstands, with a meticulosity
bordering on the insane, the various  meanings of all the different  foreign
parts of speech  he misused and  cuttlefishing every lie  unshrinkable about
all the other people  in the story, leaving out, of course, foreconsciously,
the  simple worf  and plague and  poison  they  had cornered him about until
there was not a snoozer among them but was utterly undeceived in the heel of
the reel by the recital of the rigmarole.
     He  went  without  saying  that  the  cull   disliked  anything  anyway
approaching a plain straightforward standup  or knockdown row and, as  often
as he  was called  in to umpire any octagonal argument  among slangwhangers,
the accomplished  washout always used to rub shoulders with the last speaker
and clasp shakers (the handtouch which is speech without words) and agree to
every word as  soon as  half  uttered, command  me!, your servant,  good,  I
revere you, how, my seer? be drinking that! quite truth, gratias, I'm yoush,
see  wha'm hearing?, also  goods, please  it, me  sure?,  be filling  this!,
quiso, you said it, apasafello, muchas grassyass, is there firing-on-me?, is
their  girlic-on-you?,  to  your good  self, your sulphur,  and then at once
focuss his whole unbalanced  attention upon the next octagonist  who managed
to  catch a  listener's  eye, asking  and imploring him  out  of his piteous
onewinker, (hemoptysia  diadumenos) whether  there was anything in the world
he could do  to please him and to overflow  his tumbletantaliser for him yet
once more.
     One  hailcannon  night (for  his  departure  was attended  by  a  heavy
downpour) as very recently  as  some  thousand rains  ago he  was  therefore
treated  with  what closely resembled parsonal  violence, being  soggert all
unsuspectingly through the deserted  village of Tumblin-on-the-Leafy from Mr
Vanhomrigh's house at 81 bis Mabbot's Mall as far as Green  Patch beyond the
brickfields of Salmon  Pool by rival teams of slowspiers counter quicklimers
who finally, as rahilly they had been deteened out rawther laetich, thought,
busnis  hits  busnis,  they  had  better be  streaking for  home after their
Auborne-to-Auborne,with  thanks  for  the  pleasant  evening,  one  and  all
disgustedly, instead of ruggering him  back, and  awake, reconciled  (though
they  were as jealous as could be  cullions  about all the truffles they had
brought on him) to a friendship, fast and furious, which merely arose out of
the noxious pervert's  perfect lowness. Again there was a  hope that people,
looking on him with the contemp of the contempibles, after first  gaving him
a roll in  the dirt, might pity and forgive him,  if properly  deloused, but
the pleb was born a Quicklow and sank alowing till he stank out of sight.
     All  Saints beat Belial! Mickil  Goals to Nichil! Notpossible! Already?
In Nowhere has yet the Whole World taken part of himself for his
     Wife; By Nowhere have Poorparents been sentenced to Worms, Blood and
     Thunder  for Life Not yet has the Emp from Corpsica forced the Arth out
of Engleterre; Not yet have  the  Sachsen and Judder on  the Mound of a Word
made
     Warre; Not yet Witchywithcy of Wench struck Fire of his Heath from on
     Hoath;  Not  yet  his  Arcobaleine  forespoken  Peacepeace  upon  Oath;
Cleftfoot from Hempal must tumpel, Blamefool Gardener's bound to
     fall; Broken Eggs will poursuive bitten Apples for where theirs is Will
     there's his  Wall; But the Mountstill  frowns  on the Millstream  while
their Madsons
     leap his Bier And her  Rillstrill liffs to  His  Murkesty all her  daft
Daughters laff
     in her Ear. Till the four Shores of deff Tory Island let the douze dumm
Eire
     whiggs raille! Hirp!  Hirp! for their Missed Understandings! chirps the
Ballat of
     Perce-Oreille.
     O fortunous casualitas! Lefty takes the cherubcake while  Rights cloves
his  hoof  Darkies  never  done tug that  coon  out to  play  non-excretory,
anti-sexuous, misoxenetic, gaasy  pure, flesh  and blood games, written  and
composed and sung  and danced by Niscemus  Nemon, same as piccaninnies  play
all  day,  those old  (none of your honeys and rubbers !) games for fun  and
element we used to play with Dina and  old Joe kicking her behind and before
and  the yellow  girl kicking  him behind old Joe, games  like Thom Thom the
Thonderman,  Put  the  Wind  up the Peeler,  Hat  in the Ring, Prisson  your
Pritchards and Play Withers Team, Mikel on the Luckypig, Nickel in the Slot,
Sheila Harnett  and  her Cow,  Adam and  Ell, Humble Bumble, Moggie's on the
Wall, Twos  and  Threes, American Jump, Fox  Come  out  of  your Den, Broken
Bottles,  Writing a  Letter to Punch, Tiptop is a Sweetstore, Henressy Crump
Expolled,  Postman's  Knock,  Are  We Fairlys  Represented?, Solomon  Silent
reading,  Appletree  Bearstone,  I know a Washerwoman, Hospitals, As  I  was
Walking,  There  is  Oneyone's  House in Dreamcolohour,  Battle of Waterloo,
Colours,  Eggs  in the Bush,  Habberdasherisher, Telling your Dreams, What's
the Time, Nap, Ducking Mammy, Last  Man Standing, Heali Baboon and the Forky
Theagues, Fickleyes and Futilears, Handmarried but  once in my Life and I'll
never commit such a Sin agin, Zip Cooney Candy, Turkey in the Straw, This is
the  Way  we sow the  Seed  of a  long  and lusty Morning,  Hops  of Fun  at
Miliken's  Make,  I seen  the Toothbrush with Pat Farrel,  Here's the Fat to
graze the  Priest's Boots, When his Steam was  like  a Raimbrandt round  Mac
Garvey.
     Now it is notoriously  known how  on that surprisingly bludgeony  Unity
Sunday  when the grand  germogall allstar  bout was harrily the rage between
our weltingtoms extraordinary and our pettythicks the  marshalaisy and Irish
eyes of welcome were smiling daggers down  their backs, when the  roth, vice
and blause met the noyr blank and rogues and the grim white and cold bet the
black fighting tans, categorically unimperatived  by the maxims, a rank funk
getting  the  better  of him, the scut  in a bad fit  of pyjamas fled like a
leveret  for his  bare lives,  to Talviland,  ahone  ahaza, pursued  by  the
scented  curses of  all the  village  belles and,  without having struck one
blow, (pig stole on  him was lust he lagging it was becaused  dust he shook)
kuskykorked himself up tight  in his inkbattle house,  badly the  worse  for
boosegas, there  to  stay in afar for the  life, where, as there  was  not a
moment to be lost, after he had boxed around with his fortepiano till he was
whole  bach bamp  him  and  bump him blues, he collapsed  carefully under  a
bedtick from Schwitzer's,  his face enveloped into a dead warrior's telemac,
with a lullobaw's somnbomnet and a whotwaterwottle at  his feet to stoke his
energy of waiting, moaning feebly, in monkmarian monotheme, but  tarned long
and then a nation louder, while engaged in swallowing from a large ampullar,
that  his  pawdry's  purgatory was  more than  a  nigger  bloke could  bear,
hemiparalysed  by  the tong  warfare and  all the shemozzle,  (Daily  Maily,
fullup  Lace! Holy Maly,  Mothelup Joss!) his  cheeks and trousers  changing
colour every time a gat croaked.
     How  is  that  for  low,  laities  and  gentlenuns?  Why,  dog  of  the
Crostiguns, whole continents  rang with this  Kairokorran lowness! Sheols of
houris in chems upon divans,  (revolted stellas vespertine vesamong them) at
a bare (O!) mention of the scaly rybald exclaimed: Poisse!
     But  would anyone,  short  of a madhouse, believe  it? Neither of those
clean  little cherubum, Nero or Nobookisonester himself, ever  nursed such a
spoiled opinion of his  monstrous marvellosity as did this mental and  moral
defective (here perhaps at the  vanessance of his  lownest) who was known to
grognt rather  than  gunnard  upon one  occasion, while  drinking heavily of
spirits to that  interlocutor a latere and private privysuckatary he used to
pal around  with,  in the kavehazs,  one Davy Browne-Nowlan,  his heavenlaid
twin,  (this hambone  dogpoet pseudoed himself under  the  hangname  he gave
himself of Bethgelert)  in  the  porchway  of  a  gipsy's bar  (Shem  always
blaspheming, so holy writ, Billy, he would try, old Belly, and  pay this one
manjack  congregant of his four soups every lass of nexmouth, Bolly, so sure
as thair's a tail on  a commet, as a taste  for storik's fortytooth, that is
to  stay,  to  listen  out,  ony  twenny  minnies  moe, Bully,  his  Ballade
Imaginaire which was to be  dubbed Wine, Woman and Waterclocks, or How a Guy
Finks  and  Fawkes When He  Is Going Batty, by Maistre Sheames de  la Plume,
some most dreadful stuff in a murderous mirrorhand) that he was avoopf (parn
me!) aware of  no other  shaggspick, other  Shakhisbeard,  either  prexactly
unlike his polar andthisishis or procisely the seem as woops (parn!) as what
he fancied  or guessed the  sames  as he was  himself and that, greet scoot,
duckings and thuggery, though he was foxed fux to fux like a bunnyboy rodger
with all the teashop lionses of Lumdrum hivanhoesed up gagainst him, being a
lapsis linquo  with a  ruvidubb shortartempa,  bad  cad dad fad  sad mad nad
vanhaty bear,  the consciquenchers  of  casuality  prepestered crusswords in
postposition,  scruff,  scruffer, scrufferumurraimost andallthatsortofthing,
if  reams stood to  reason and  his lankalivline lasted he  would wipe alley
english spooker, multaphoniaksically spuking, off the face of the erse.
     After  the  thorough fright he  got that bloody, Swithun's day,  though
every doorpost in muchtried Lucalizod  was  smeared  with  generous erstborn
gore  and every free  for all cobbleway  slippery with the bloods of heroes,
crying  to Welkins for others, and noahs  and cul verts agush with tears  of
joy, our  low waster  never  had the common baalamb's  pluck to stir out and
about the compound while everyone else of the torchlit throng, slashers  and
sliced alike,  mobbu on massa,  waaded and  baaded around, yampyam  pampyam,
chanting the Gillooly chorus, from the Monster Book of  Paltryattic Puetrie,
O pura e pia bella! in junk et sampam or in secular sinkalarum, heads up, on
his  bonafide avocation  (the little  folk creeping on  all  fours to  their
natural  school treat  but childishly gleeful  when a stray whizzer sang out
intermediately)  and happy belongers to the fairer sex on their usual  quest
for  higher things, but  vying with  Lady  Smythe  to avenge MacJobber, went
stonestepping  with their bickerrstaffs  on  educated feet,  plinkity plonk,
across  the sevenspan  ponte dei  colori  set  up  over  the slop after  the
war-to-end war by Messrs a charitable government for the only once (dia dose
Finnados!) he  did take a tompip peepestrella  throug  a threedraw  eighteen
hawkspower durdicky telescope, luminous to larbourd only like  the lamps  in
Nassaustrass, out of his westernmost keyhole, spitting at  the impenetrablum
wetter,  (and it was porcoghastly that outumn) with an  eachway hope in  his
shivering  soul, as he prayed  to the cloud Incertitude, of finding  out for
himself, on  akkount  of all the kules  in Kroukaparka or  oving to all  the
kodseoggs in  Kalatavala, whether true  conciliation  was  forging ahead  or
falling back  after the  celestious intemperance and, for Duvvelsache,  why,
with his see me see and his my see a corves and his frokerfoskerfuskar layen
loves in  meeingseeing, he got the charm of  his optical  life when he found
himself (hic sunt lennones!) at pointblank range blinking down the barrel of
an irregular  revolver of the bulldog with a  purpose pattern, handled by an
unknown quarreler who, supposedly, had been told off  to shade and shoot shy
Shem should the shit show his shiny shnout out awhile to look facts in their
face before being hosed and creased (uprip and jack him !) by six or a dozen
of the gayboys.
     What, para Saom Plaom, in the names  of Deucalion and  Pyrrha, and  the
incensed privy and the  licensed pantry gods and Stator and Victor  and Kutt
and Runn and the whole mesa redonda of Lorencao  Otulass in convocacaon, was
this  disinterestingly low human  type, this  Calumnious Column of Cloaxity,
this Bengalese  Beacon of Biloxity,  this Annamite Aper of Atroxity,  really
at, it will be precise to quarify, for he seems in a badbad case?
     The answer, to do  all  the  diddies  in  one  dedal, would sound: from
pulling himself  on his  most  flavoured  canal the huge  chesthouse  of his
elders  (the Popapreta, and  some navico, navvies!) he  had flickered up and
flinnered  down into a  drug and drunkery  addict,  growing  megalomane of a
loose past. This explains the litany of septuncial lettertrumpets honorific,
highpitched,  erudite, neoclassical,which he  so  loved  as  patricianly  to
manuscribe  after  his  name.  It  would   have  diverted,if  ever  seen,the
shuddersome spectacle of this semidemented zany  amid  the inspissated grime
of his glaucous  den making  believe  to read  his usylessly unreadable Blue
Book of Eccles, �dition de t�n�bres, (even yet sighs the Most Different, Dr.
Poindejenk,  authorised  bowdler and censor, it can't  be repeated!) turning
over three sheets at  a  wind,  telling himself delightedly, no espellor mor
so, that every splurge on the vellum he blundered over was an aisling vision
more gorgeous than the one before t.i.t.s., a roseschelle cottage by the sea
for  nothing for ever, a ladies tryon hosiery raffle at liberty, a  sewerful
of guineagold wine with brancomongepadenopie and sickcylinder  oysters worth
a billion a bite,  an  entire operahouse (there was to be stamping room only
in  the  prompter's  box  and  everthemore  his  queque  kept  swelling)  of
enthusiastic noblewomen flinging every  coronetcrimsoned stitch they had off
at his probscenium,one after  the  others,  inamagoaded into  ajustilloosing
themselves,  in their  gaiety pantheomime, when, egad,  sir, acordant to all
acountstrick,  he  squealed  the topsquall im  Deal  Lil  Shemlockup  Yellin
(geewhiz, jew ear  that  far!  soap ewer! loutgout of sabaous! juice like  a
boyd!) for fully five minutes,infinitely better than Baraton Mc Gluckin with
a scrumptious  cocked  hat  and  three green,  cheese  and tangerine trinity
plumes on the  right handle side  of his amarellous head,  a coat macfarlane
(the  kerssest  cut,  you  understand?)  a sponiard's  digger  at  his ribs,
(Alfaiate punxit) an  azulblu  blowsheet for  his blousebosom  blossom and a
dean's  crozier  that  he  won  from  Cardinal  Lindundarri   and   Cardinal
Carchingarri and Cardinal Loriotuli and Cardinal Occidentaccia (ah  ho!)  in
the dearby darby doubled for falling first over the  hurdles, madam, in  the
odder hand, a.a.t.s.o.t.,  but what with the murky light, the botchy  print,
the  tattered   cover,  the  jigjagged  page,  the  fumbling   fingers,  the
foxtrotting fleas, the lieabed lice, the scum on his tongue, the drop in his
eye, the lump in  his throat, the drink in his pottle, the itch in his palm,
the wail of his wind, the grief from his breath, the fog of his mindfag, the
buzz in  his braintree,  the tic of his  conscience, the height up his rage,
the gush down  his fundament, the fire in his gorge, the tickle of his tail,
the bane in his bullugs, the squince in his suil, the rot in  his eater, the
ycho in his earer, the totters of his toes, the tetters on his tumtytum, the
rats in his  garret, the bats in his belfry, the budgerigars  and bumbosolom
beaubirds, the hullabaloo and the dust in his ears since it took him a month
to steal a march he was hardset to mumorise more than a word  a week. Hake's
haulin!  Hook's  fisk! Can you beat  it? Whawe! I say,  can you bait it? Was
there ever heard of such lowdown blackguardism? Positively it woolies one to
think over it.
     Yet  the bumpersprinkler used to  boast  aloud alone to  himself with a
haccent on it when Mynfadher was  a  boer  constructor and Hoy was a lexical
student, parole, and corrected with the blackboard (trying to copy the stage
Englesemen he broughts their house down on, shouting: Bravure, surr Chorles!
Letter purfect! Culossal, Loose Wallor! Spache!) how he had been toed out of
all the schicker  families of the klondykers from  Pioupioureich, Swabspays,
the  land of Nod, Shruggers' Country, Pension Danubierhome and Barbaropolis,
who had settled  and  stratified in  the capital city  after its hebdomodary
metropoliarchialisation  as  sunblistered,  moonplastered,  gory, wheedling,
joviale, litcherous and full,  ordered  off  the gorgeous  premises  in most
cases on account  of his  smell which all cookmaids eminently objected to as
ressembling the bombinubble puzzo  that welled out  of the pozzo. Instead of
chuthoring those model households plain wholesome pothooks (a thing he never
possessed of his Nigerian own)  what do you  think Vulgariano  did but study
with stolen fruit how cutely to copy  all  their various styles of signature
so as one  day to utter an epical forged  cheque  on the public for  his own
private profit  until, as just related, the Dustbin's United  Scullerymaid's
and Househelp's  Sorority,  better known  as Sluttery's Mowlted Futt, turned
him down and assisted nature by unitedly shoeing the source of annoyance out
of the  place altogether  and taytotally on the heat of the moment,  holding
one another's gonk  (for  no-one, hound or  scrublady,  not  even  the Turk,
ungreekable in purscent  of the armenable, dared  whiff the polecat at close
range)  and  making  some  pointopointing  remarks as they  done  so at  the
perfects of the Sniffey, your honour, aboon the lyow why a stunk, mister.
     [Jymes  wishes to hear  from  wearers  of  abandoned  female  costumes,
gratefully  received, wadmel  jumper,  rather  full  pair  of  culottes  and
onthergarmenteries,  to start city life together. His  jymes is  out of job,
would sit and write. He has lately commited one of the then commandments but
she will now assist. Superior built, domestic, regular  layer.  Also got the
boot. He appreciates it. Copies. ABORTISEMENT.]
     One cannot even begin to post  figure out  a statuesquo ante  as to how
slow in reality the excommunicated Drumcondriac, nate Hamis, really was. Who
can say how many  pseudostylic shamiana, how  few or how  many  of  the most
venerated  public impostures,  how  very  many  piously  forged  palimpsests
slipped in the first place by this morbid process from his pelagiarist pen?
     Be that as it may, but for that light phantastic of his gnose's glow as
it slid lucifericiously  within an  inch of its page  (he would touch at its
from time to other, the  red eye of his fear in saddishness,  to  ensign the
colours by  the beerlitz in his  mathness and  his educandees  to  outhue to
themselves  in the  cries  of girlglee:  gember !  inkware !  chonchambre  !
cinsero !  zinnzabar !  tincture and gin!) Nibs never  would  have quilled a
seriph to sheepskin. By that rosy lampoon's effluvious burning and with help
of the simulchronic flush in his pann (a ghinee a ghirk he ghets there!)  he
scrabbled and scratched and  scriobbled and skrevened nameless shamelessness
about everybody ever he met, even sharing  a precipitation under the  idlish
tarriers'  umbrella  of  a  showerproof wall, while all over up and down the
four margins  of this rancid Shem stuff  the evilsmeller (who was devoted to
Uldfadar  Sardanapalus)  used  to stipple endlessly inartistic portraits  of
himself in the act of reciting old Nichiabelli's monolook interyerear Hanno,
o  Nonanno,  acce'l  brubblemm'as,  ser Autore,  q.e.d.,  a  heartbreakingly
handsome  young  paolo  with  love  lyrics  for  the goyls in  his eyols,  a
plaintiff's  tanner  vuice, a  jucal inkome of  one  hundred  and  thirtytwo
dranchmas per  yard from Broken Hill stranded  estate,  Camebreech mannings,
cutting a great dash  in  a  brandnew  two guinea dress  suit  and a  burled
hogsford hired for a Fursday  evenin merry pawty, anna loavely long pair  of
inky Italian moostarshes glistering with boric vaseline and frangipani. Puh!
How unwhisperably so!
     The  house   O'Shea  or  O'Shame,  Quivapieno,  known  as  the  Haunted
Inkbottle, no  number Brimstone Walk, Asia in Ireland,  as  it  was infested
with the  raps, with his penname  SHUT sepiascraped on  the doorplate  and a
blind  of  black   sailcloth   over  its  wan  phwinshogue,  in  which   the
soulcontracted son of the secret cell groped through  life at the expense of
the taxpayers, dejected into day and night with jesuit bark and bitter bite,
calicohydrants of zolfor  and scoppialamina by  full  and forty Queasisanos,
every  day in everyone's  way more  exceeding  in violent  abuse of self and
others, was the worst, it is hoped, even in our western playboyish world for
pure mousefarm filth. You brag of your  brass castle  or your tyled house in
ballyfermont?  Niggs, niggs  and  niggs  again. For  this  was  a  stinksome
inkenstink,  quite puzzonal  to  the  wrottel. Smatterafact,  Angles aftanon
browsing there  thought  not Edam  reeked  more rare. My  wud  !  The warped
flooring of the lair and soundconducting walls  thereof, to  say nothing  of
the uprights and imposts, were persianly literatured with burst loveletters,
telltale stories, stickyback  snaps, doubtful  eggshells, bouchers,  flints,
borers,  puffers,  amygdaloid  almonds,  rindless  raisins, alphybettyformed
verbage,  vivlical viasses, ompiter dictas, visus umbique, ahems and  ahahs,
imeffible tries at  speech unasyllabled, you owe  mes,  eyoldhyms,  fluefoul
smut, fallen lucifers, vestas which had served, showered ornaments, borrowed
brogues,  reversibles  jackets,  blackeye  lenses,  family  jars,  falsehair
shirts,   Godforsaken   scapulars,  neverworn  breeches,   cutthroat   ties,
counterfeit franks, best  intentions,  curried notes, upset latten tintacks,
unused  mill   and  stumpling  stones,  twisted   quills,  painful  digests,
magnifying wineglasses, solid  objects cast  at  goblins, once current puns,
quashed  quotatoes,  messes of mottage, unquestionable issue  papers,  seedy
ejaculations,  limerick  damns, crocodile tears,  spilt  ink,  blasphematory
spits,   stale   shestnuts,   schoolgirl's,   young   ladies,    milkmaids',
washerwomen's, shopkeepers' wives, merry widows',  ex  nuns', vice abbess's,
pro   virgins',   super   whores',   silent  sisters',   Charleys'   aunts',
grandmothers', mothers'-in-laws,fostermothers',  godmothers' garters,  tress
clippings from right, lift and  cintrum, worms  of snot, toothsome pickings,
cans of Swiss condensed  bilk, highbrow lotions, kisses from  the antipodes,
presents  from pickpockets,  borrowed plumes, relaxable  handgrips, princess
promises,   lees   of   whine,  deoxodised   carbons,  convertible  collars,
diviliouker  doffers, broken wafers, unloosed  shoe latchets, crooked strait
waistcoats, fresh horrors from Hades, globules of  mercury, undeleted glete,
glass eyes  for an eye,  gloss teeth for a tooth, war moans, special  sighs,
longsufferings of  longstanding,  ahs ohs ouis sis  jas  jos gias neys thaws
sos, yeses and yeses and yeses, to which,  if one has the stomach to add the
breakages,  upheavals distortions, inversions of  all this chambermade music
one stands, given  a grain of goodwill, a fair chance of actually seeing the
whirling  dervish, Tumult,  son of Thunder, self  exiled in upon  his  ego,a
nightlong a shaking betwixtween white or reddr hawrors, noondayterrorised to
skin and bone by  an ineluctable phantom (may the Shaper have mercery on him
!) writing the mystery of himsel in furniture.
     Of course our low hero was  a self  valeter by choice of need  so up he
got   up  whatever  is   meant   by  a   stourbridge  clay  kitchenette  and
lithargogalenu fowlhouse for the sake of akes (the umpple does not fall very
far from the dumpertree) which the moromelodious  jigsmith,  in defiance  of
the  Uncontrollable Birth  Preservativation  (Game and Poultry) Act, playing
lallaryrook cookerynook, by the dodginess of his lentern, brooled and cocked
and  potched  in an  athanor, whites and  yolks and yilks and  whotes to the
frulling  fredonnance of Mas blanca que la blanca  hermana and Amarilla, muy
bien, with cinnamon and locusts and wild beeswax and liquorice and Carrageen
moss and  blaster of Barry's  and  Asther's  mess and  Huster's micture  and
Yellownan's embrocation  and  Pinkingtone's patty and  stardust and sinner's
tears, acuredent to Sharadan's Art  of Panning, chanting,  for all regale to
the like of the legs he left behind  with  Litty  fun  Letty  fan Leven, his
cantraps of fermented words, abracadabra  calubra culorum, (his oewfs ... la
Madame Gabrielle de l'Eglise, his  avgs ... la Mistress  B. de B. Meinfelde,
his eiers Usquadmala ... la pomme de ciel, his uoves, oves and  uves  ... la
Sulphate  de  Soude, his ochiuri  sowtay  sowmmonay  a  la Monseigneur,  his
soufflosion  of  oogs  with  somekat  on  toyast  ...  la  M�re  Puard,  his
Poggadovies  alla Fenella, his Frideggs ...  la Tricar�me) in what was meant
for a closet (Ah ho! If only he had listened better to the four masters that
infanted  him  Father Mathew  and Le P�re  Noble  and Pastor Lucas and Padre
Aguilar--not  forgetting Layteacher  Baudwin!  Ah  ho!) His costive  Satan's
antimonian manganese  limolitmious nature  never  needed  such an alcove so,
when Robber and Mumsell, the pulpic dictators,on the nudgment of their legal
advisers,  Messrs Codex  and Podex, and under his  own benefiction  of their
pastor Father Flammeus Falconer, boycotted him of all muttonsuet candles and
romeruled stationery for any purpose, he winged  away on  a wildgoup's chase
across  the kathartic  ocean and made synthetic ink and sensitive  paper for
his own  end out of his wit's waste. You  ask,  in Sam Hill, how? Let manner
and  matter of  this for  these our  sporting  times be  cloaked  up in  the
language of blushfed porporates that an  Anglican  ordinal,  not reading his
own rude dunsky tunga, may ever  behold the brand of scarlet on the brow  of
her of Babylon and feel not the pink one in his own damned cheek.
     Primum  opifex,  altus prosator, ad terram viviparam et  cunctipotentem
sine  ullo pudore nec venia, suscepto pluviali atque discinctis perizomatis,
natibus  nudis uti  nati fuissent, sese adpropinquans,  flens  et gemens, in
manum suam  evacuavit (highly prosy,  crap  in  his  hand, sorry!),  postea,
animale   nigro  exoneratus,  classicum  pulsans,  stercus  proprium,   quod
appellavit deiectiones suas, in vas olim honorabile tristitiae posuit, eodem
sub  invocatione fratrorum geminorum  Medardi et Godardi  laete ac melliflue
minxit,psalmum qui incipit: Lingua mea calamus scribae velociter scribentis:
magna voce  cantitans  (did  a  piss,  says he  was  dejected,  asks  to  be
exonerated),  demum  ex stercore turpi cum divi Orionis  iucunditate  mixto,
cocto, frigorique exposito, encaustum sibi fecit indelibile (faked O'Ryan's,
the indelible ink).
     Then, pious Eneas, conformant to thc fulminant firman which enjoins  on
the  tremylose  terrian  that,   when  the  call  comes,  he  shall  produce
nichthemerically from his unheavenly body a no uncertain quantity of obscene
matter not protected by copriright in the United Stars  of Ourania or bedeed
and bedood and bedang and bedung to him, with this  double  dye, brought  to
blood heat, gallic  acid  on iron  ore, through the  bowels  of his  misery,
flashly,  faithly,  nastily, appropriately,  this  Esuan Menschavik and  the
first till last alshemist wrote over every square inch  of the only foolscap
available, his own body, till  by  its  corrosive sublimation one continuous
present  tense  integument  slowly  unfolded  all  marryvoising  moodmoulded
cyclewheeling history (thereby, he said, reflecting from his own  individual
person  life   unlivable,  transaccidentated  through  the  slow   fires  of
consciousness into a dividual  chaos,  perilous, potent, common to allflesh,
human  only,  mortal) but  with  each  word  that  would  not  pass away the
squidself  which  he  had squirtscreened from the  crystalline  world  waned
chagreenold and  doriangrayer in  its  dudhud. This  exists that isits after
having  been said we know.  And  dabal  take  dabnal! And the dal  dabal dab
aldanabal!  So perhaps,  agglaggagglomeratively  asaspenking, after  all and
arklast fore arklyst on his last public  misappearance, circling the square,
for the  deathf�te  of Saint Ignaceous Poisonivy, of the Fickle Crowd (hopon
the sexth day of Hogsober, killim our king, layum low !) and brandishing his
bellbearing stylo,  the  shining keyman of  the  wilds of change, if what is
sauce  for the zassy is souse for the zazimas,the blond  cop who  thought it
was ink was out of his depth but bright in the main.
     Petty  constable  Sistersen  of  the   Kruis-Kroon-Kraal  it  was,  the
parochial  watch, big  the  dog  the  dig the bog  the bagger the dugger the
begadag degabug, who  had been  detailed from pollute stoties  to  save him,
this the quemquem, that the quum,  from the ligatureliablous effects of foul
clay in  little  clots  and  mobmauling  on  looks, that wrongcountered  the
tenderfoot an  eveling near the livingsmeansuniumgetherum, Knockmaree, Comty
Mea, reeling more to the right than he lurched to the left, on  his way from
a protoprostitute (he would always have a (stp!) little  pigeoness somewhure
with his arch girl, Arcoiris, smockname of Mergyt) just as he was butting in
rand the coyner of bad times under a hideful between the rival doors of warm
bethels of  worship through his boardelhouse fongster, greeting for grazious
oras as usual: Where ladies  have they that  a  dog meansort herring? Sergo,
search me, the incapable reparteed with a selfevitant  subtlety so obviously
spurious and, raising his hair, after the  grace, with  the christmas  under
his  clutcharm,  for   Portsymasser  and  Purtsymessus  and  Pertsymiss  and
Partsymasters,  like a  prance of findingos, with a  shillto shallto  slipny
stripny, in he skittled. Swikey! The  allwhite  poors guardiant, pulpably of
balltossic stummung, was literally astundished over the painful sake, how he
burstteself, which  he was gone to, where he intent to  did he,  whether you
think will, wherend the whole current of the afternoon whats the souch  of a
surch hads of hits of hims, urged and staggered thereto  in his countryports
at the caledosian capacity for Lieutuvisky of the caftan's wineskin and even
more so,  during, looking his bigmost astonishments, it was said him, aschu,
fun the  concerned  outgift of the dead med  dirt, how that, arrahbejibbers,
conspuent  to the dominical order and exking noblish permish, he  was namely
coon  at  bringer at home two  gallonts,as per royal,full  poultry  till his
murder. Nip up and nab it!
     Polthergeistkotzdondherhoploits  !  Kick? What  mother?  Whose  porter?
Which pair? Why namely coon? But our undilligence has been plutherotested so
enough of such porterblack lowneess, too  base for printink! Perpending that
Putterick O'Purcell  pulls the coald stoane  out of Winterwater's and Silder
Seas  sing  for Harreng  our Keng,sept  okt nov dez John  Phibbs  march!  We
cannot,in mercy or justice nor on the lovom for labaryntos,stay here for the
residence of our existings,discussing Tamstar Ham of Tenman's thirst.
     JUSTIUS (to himother): Brawn is my name and broad is my nature and I've
breit on my brow and all's right with every feature and I'll brune this bird
or Brown Bess's bung's gone bandy. I'm the boy to bruise and braise. Baus!
     Stand  forth,  Nayman  of Noland  (for  no  longer  will  I follow  you
obliquelike through the inspired form of  the third person singular  and the
moods and  hesitensies of the deponent but  address  myself to you, with the
empirative  of my vendettative, provocative  and  out direct), stand  forth,
come boldly, jolly me,-- move me, zwilling though I am, to  laughter in your
true colours ere you  be back for  ever till I give you your talkingto! Shem
Macadamson, you know me and  I  know you and all your  shemeries. Where have
you  been  in the uterim,  enjoying yourself all the morning since your last
wetbed confession? I advise you to  conceal yourself, my little friend, as I
have said a moment ago and put your hands in my  hands and have a nightslong
homely little confiteor about things. Let me see. It is looking pretty black
against you, we suggest, Sheem avick. You  will need all the elements in the
river to  clean  you over it  all  and a  fortifine popespriestpower bull of
attender to booth.
     Let us  pry.  We thought, would and did.  Cur, quicquid,  ubi,  quando,
quomodo, quoties, quibus auxiliis? You were bred, fed, fostered and fattened
from holy childhood up in this two easter island  on the piejaw of hilarious
heaven  and roaring  the  other place (plunders  to  night of you,  blunders
what's left of  you, flash  as flash can!) and now, forsooth, a nogger among
the blankards of  this dastard century, you have become  of twosome twiminds
forenenst gods, hidden and discovered, nay, condemned fool, anarch, egoarch,
hiresiarch, you have reared your disunited kingdom on the vacuum of your own
most intensely doubtful soul.  Do you hold yourself then for some god in the
manger,  Shehohem, that you will neither  serve not  let serve, pray nor let
pray? And here, pay the piety, must I too nerve myself to pray  for the loss
of selfrespect to equip me for the  horrible  necessity of scandalisang  (my
dear sisters, are you ready?)  by sloughing off my hope and tremors while we
all swin together in the pool of  Sodom? I shall  shiver for my purity while
they will weepbig for your sins. Away  with covered words, new  Solemonities
for old  Badsheetbaths!  That  inharmonious detail, did you  name  it?  Cold
caldor!  Gee! Victory! Now, opprobro of underslung pipes, johnjacobs,  while
yet an adolescent (what do I say?), while still puerile in your tubsuit with
buttonlegs,you  got  a  handsome  present  of a selfraising syringe and twin
feeders (you know,  Monsieur Abgott, in your  art of  arts,  to your cost as
well as I  do (and don't try to hide it) the penals lots I am now poking at)
and the wheeze sort of  was you should (if you were as bould a stroke now as
the curate that christened you, sonny douth-the-candle!) repopulate the land
of your birth and count up your progeny by the hungered head and the angered
thousand but you thwarted the wious  pish of your  cogodparents, soph, among
countless occasions of  failing (for, said you, I will elenchate), adding to
the malice of your transgression,  yes, and changing its nature, (you  see I
have read your theology for you) alternating the morosity of my delectations
-- a philtred  love, trysting by  tantrums, small peace in ppenmark --  with
sensibility,  sponsibility,  passibility  and  prostability, your  lubbock's
other  fear pleasures  of a butler's life,  even  extruding  your strabismal
apologia, when legibly depressed, upon defenceless paper and thereby  adding
to the  already unhappiness of this  our popeyed world, scribblative! -- all
that too with cantreds of countless catchaleens, the mannish  as many as the
minneful, congested around and about  you for acres and roods and  poles  or
perches, thick  as  the  fluctuant  sands of Chalwador, accomplished  women,
indeed  fully educanded, far from being old and  rich behind their  dream of
arrivisme, if they  have only their  honour left, and  not  deterred  by bad
weather when consumed by amorous  passion, struggling to  possess themselves
of your boosh, one son of Sorge for all daughters of Anguish, solus cum sola
sive  cuncties cum  omnibobs  (I'd have been the best man for  you, myself),
mutely aying for hat natural knot, debituary  vases or vessels preposterous,
for what would not have cost you ten bolivars of collarwork or the price  of
one ping pang, just a lilt, let  us trillt,  of the oldest song in the wooed
woodworld, (two-we! to-one!), accompanied by a plain gold band!  Hail! Hail!
Highbosomheaving    Missmisstress    Morna    of    the   allsweetheartening
bridemuredemeanour! Her eye's  so gladsome we'll all take shares in the ----
groom!
     Sniffer of carrion, premature gravedigger, seeker  of the nest  of evil
in the bosom of a good word, you, who sleep at our  vigil and  fast for  our
feast,  you with your dislocated  reason,  have cutely foretold, a jophet in
your  own absence, by  blind  poring upon  your many scalds  and  burns  and
blisters, impetiginous  sore  and  pustules, by  the auspices of that  raven
cloud,  your shade, and  by the  auguries  of rooks in parlament, death with
every disaster, the dynamitisation of colleagues, the reducing of records to
ashes, the levelling  of  all  customs by  blazes, the return  of  a  lot of
sweetempered  gunpowdered didst  unto  dudst  but  it  never  stphruck  your
mudhead's obtundity (O  hell, here  comes our funeral! O pest, I'll miss the
post!) that the more carrots you chop, the more turnips you slit,  the  more
murphies  you  peel,  the more onions  you cry over,  the more  bullbeef you
butch, the more mutton you crackerhack,  the more  potherbs  you pound,  the
fiercer the  fire and the longer  your spoon and  the harder you  gruel with
more grease to your elbow the merrier fumes your new Irish stew.
     O, by  the  way,  yes,another thing occurs  to me. You let me tell you,
with  the utmost politeness, were very  ordinarily designed, your birthwrong
was,  to fall in with Plan, as our nationals should, as all nationists must,
and do a certain office (what, I will not tell you) in a certain holy office
(nor  will  I say where)  during  certain agonising office hours (a clerical
party all to yourself) from such a year to such  an hour  on such and such a
date at so and so much a week pro anno (Guinness's, may I remind, were  just
agulp for you,  failing in which you might have taken the scales off boilers
like any boskop of Yorek)  and do your little  thruppenny bit and  thus earn
from the nation true thanks, right here in our place of burden, your  bourne
of travail and ville  of  tares, where after a  divine's prodigence you drew
the  first watergasp in your life, from the  crib where  you once was bit to
the crypt you'll be twice as shy of, same as we, long  of us, alone with the
colt in the curner,  where  you  were  as  popular as an  armenial with  the
faithful, and you set  fire to my tailcoat when I  hold  the paraffin smoker
under yours  (I hope that  chimney's clear) but, slackly shirking both  your
bullet and your billet, you  beat  it backwards  like  Boulanger from Galway
(but he combed the  grass against his  stride)  to sing us a song  of alibi,
(the   cuthone   call   over  the   greybounding  slowrolling   amplyheaving
metamorphoseous that oozy  rocks  parapangle  their preposters  with) nomad,
mooner by lamplight, antinos, shemming amid everyone's repressed laughter to
conceal  your  scatchophily  by  mating,  like  a  thoroughpaste  prosodite,
masculine  monosyllables of the  same numerical  mus, an  Irish emigrant the
wrong way  out, sitting on  your crooked sixpenny  stile,  an unfrillfrocked
quackfriar,  you (will you for the laugh of Scheekspair just  help mine with
the epithet?) semisemitic serendipitist, you (thanks, I think that describes
you) Europasianised Afferyank!
     Shall we follow  each others a steplonger,  drowner  of daggers, whiles
our liege,  tilyet a stranger in the frontyard of his happiness, is  taking,
(heal  helper!  one  gob,  one  gap,  one  gulp  and  gorger  of  all!)  his
refreshment?
     There grew up  beside you,amid our  orisons of the speediest. in Novena
Lodge,  Novara Avenue, in Patripodium-am-Bummel,  oaf, outofwork, one remove
from  an  unwashed savage, on his keeping and in yours, (I pose you know why
possum  hides  is   cause  he  haint   the  nogumtreeumption)   that  other,
Immaculatus, from head to foot, sir,  that pure one, Altrues of other times,
he who  was  well  known  to  celestine  circles  before he sped aloft,  our
handsome young spiritual physician that  was to be, seducing  every sense to
selfwilling celebesty, the most winning  counterfeuille  on our  incomeshare
lotetree, a  chum of the  angelets, a  youth  those  reporters  so pettitily
wanted  as gamefellow that they asked his mother  for ittle earps brupper to
let  him tome to Tindertarten? pease,  and bing his scooter  'long and 'tend
they were all real brothers in the big justright home where Dodd lives, just
to teddyfy the life out of him and pat and pass him one with other like musk
from hand to  hand, that mothersmothered model, that goodlooker  with not  a
flaw whose spiritual toilettes were  the talk of  half  the town, for sunset
wear and nightfallen use and daybroken donning and nooncheon showing and the
very  thing for teasetime, but him  you laid low with one hand  one fine May
morning in the Meddle  of your Might, your bosom foe, because he mussed your
speller  on  you  or because he  cut a pretty figure in the  focus  of  your
frontispecs (not one did you slay, no, but a continent!) to find out how his
innards worked !
     Ever read  of that greatgrand landfather of our visionbuilders, Baaboo,
the bourgeoismeister, who thought to touch  both himmels  at the punt of his
risen stiffstaff  and  how wishywashy  sank the waters of  his thought? Ever
thought  of that  hereticalist Marcon and  the  two  scissymaidies  and  how
bulkily  he shat  the Ructions gunorrhal?  Ever hear of that foxy, that lupo
and that monkax and the virgin heir of the Morrisons, eh, blethering ape?
     Malingerer in luxury, collector general, what has Your Lowness  done in
the  mealtime with all the  hamilkcars  of cooked vegetables, the hatfuls of
stewed fruit, the  suitcases of coddled ales, the Parish  funds, me schamer,
man, that you kittycoaxed so flexibly out of charitable butteries by yowling
heavy with a  hollow voice drop of your horrible awful poverty of mind so as
you couldn't even pledge a crown of Thorne's to pawn a coat off Trevi's  and
as how you was bad no end, so you was, so  whelp you Sinner Pitre and Sinner
Poule, with  the chicken's gape and  pas mal de  si�cle,  which, by  the by,
Reynaldo,  is the ordinary emetic French  for grenadier's  drip. To  let you
have your plank and your bonewash (O the hastroubles you lost!), to give you
your  pound  of  platinum  and  a  thousand  thongs  a  year  (O,  you  were
excruciated, in honour bound to the cross of your own cruelfiction !) to let
you have your Sarday spree and holinight sleep (fame would come to you twixt
a sleep and a wake) and leave  to lie till Paraskivee and the cockcock crows
for  Danmark.  (O Jonathan,  your  estomach!) The  simian  has no  sentiment
secretions but weep  cataracts  for all  me,  Pain the  Shamman! Oft  in the
smelly night will they wallow for a clutch of the famished hand, I say, them
bearded  jezabelles  you  hired  to rob  you,  while  on your  sodden  straw
impolitely you  encored  (Airish  and  nawboggaleesh!) those  hornmade ivory
dreams you reved of the Ruth you called your companionate, a beauty from the
bible, of the  flushpots  of Euston  and the hanging garments of Marylebone.
But the dormer moonshee smiled selene and the lightthrowers knickered: who's
whinging  we? Comport yourself,  you  inconsistency!  Where  is that  little
alimony  nestegg against  our  predictable  rainy day? Is it  not  the  fact
(gainsay  me,  cakeeater!) that, while whistlewhirling  your  crazy  elegies
around Templetombmount joyntstone, (let him pass,  pleasegoodjesusalem, in a
bundle  of  straw, he  was balbettised after haymaking) you squandered among
underlings  the  overload  of  your extravagance  and  made a  hottentot  of
dulpeners crawsick with your crumbs? Am I not right? Yes? Yes? Yes? Holy wax
and holifer! Don't tell me, Leon of the fold, that you are not a  loanshark!
Look  up,  old sooty, be advised  by  mux and take  your medicine.  The Good
Doctor mulled it. Mix  it twice before repastures  and  powder three times a
day. It does marvels for your gripins and it's fine for the solitary worm.
     Let me finish! Just a little judas tonic, my ghem of all jokes, to make
you go green in the gazer. Do you hear what I'm seeing, hammet? And remember
that golden silence  gives consent, Mr Anklegazer! Cease to  be civil, learn
to say nay! Whisht! Come here, Herr Studiosus, till I tell you a wig in your
ear.  We'll  do a whisper drive, for if the barishnyas  got a twitter of  it
they'd tell the housetops and  then all Cadbury would  go crackers. Look! Do
you see your dial in the rockingglass?  Look well ! Bend down a stigmy  till
I! It's secret! Iggri, I say,  the booseleers! I had it from Lamppost Shawe.
And he had  it from the Mullah. And Mull  took  it from a Bluecoat schooler.
And  Gay Socks  jot it from  Potapheu's  wife. And Rantipoll tipped the wink
from old  Mrs  Tinbullet.  And  as  for she  was  confussed  by  pro-Brother
Thacolicus. And the good brother  feels  he would need to  defecate you. And
the Flimsy Follettes  are simply  beside  each  other. And Kelly,  Kenny and
Keogh  are up  up and in arms. That  a cross  may  crush  me if  I refuse to
believe in it. That I may rock anchor  through the ages  if I hope  it's not
true. That the host may choke  me if  I beneighbour you without  my charity!
Sh! Shem, you are. Sh! You are mad!
     He  points the  deathbone  and the  quick  are still.  Insomnia, somnia
somniorum. Awmawm.
     MERCIUS (of hisself):  Domine vopiscus! My fault, his fault, a kingship
through a fault! Pariah, cannibal Cain, I who oathily forswore the womb that
bore you and the paps I sometimes  sucked, you who ever  since have been one
black mass  of  jigs and jimjams, haunted  by a convulsionary  sense of  not
having been or being all that  I might  have  been or you meant to becoming,
bewailing like a man that  innocence  which I could not defend like a woman,
lo,you there, Cathmon-Carbery, and thank Movies from the innermost depths of
my still attrite  heart,Wherein  the days of youyouth  are evermixed mimine,
now ere the compline hour of being alone  athands itself and  a  puff or  so
before we yield our spiritus to the wind, for (though that royal one has not
yet drunk a gouttelette from his consummation and the flowerpot on the pole,
the spaniel pack and their quarry, retainers and the public house proprietor
have  not budged a millimetre and all that has been done  has yet to be done
and done  again, when's day's  woe, and lo, you're doomed, joyday dawns and,
la,  you  dominate)  it  is to  you, firstborn and firstfruit of woe, to me,
branded sheep, pick of  the  wasterpaperbaskel,  by the tremours of Thundery
and  Ulerin's  dogstar, you  alone,  windblasted  tree  of the  knowledge of
beautiful andevil, ay, clothed upon with the  metuor and shimmering like the
horescens, astroglodynamonologos, the child of Nilfit's  father, blzb, to me
unseen blusher in an  obscene  coalhole,  the cubilibum of your secret sigh,
dweller  in the  downandoutermost where voice  only of  the  dead  may come,
because ye left from me,  because ye laughed on me, because, O me lonly son,
ye are  forgetting  me!, that  our  turfbrown  mummy  is  acoming,  alpilla,
beltilla, ciltilla, deltilla, running with her tidings, old  the news of the
great  big world, sonnies had a scrap, woewoewoe! bab's baby  walks at seven
months, waywayway ! bride leaves her raid at Punchestime, stud stoned before
a racecourseful, two belles that  make the one appeal, dry yanks will  visit
old  sod, and  fourtiered  skirts  are up, mesdames,  while Parimiknie wears
popular short legs, and twelve hows  to mix a  tipsy wake, did ye hear, colt
Cooney? did ye ever, filly Fortescue?  with a  beck, with  a spring, all her
rillringlets shaking, rocks drops in her tachie, tramtokens in her hair, all
waived  to  a point and  then all  inuendation,  little  oldfashioned mummy,
little  wonderful  mummy, ducking  under  bridges,  bellhopping  the  weirs,
dodging by a bit of bog, rapidshooting round  the bends, by Tallaght's green
hills and the pools of  the phooka  and a place they call it Blessington and
slipping sly by Sallynoggin, as happy as the day is wet, babbling, bubbling,
chattering to herself, deloothering the fields on  their elbows leaning with
the sloothering slide of her, giddygaddy, grannyma, gossipaceous Anna Livia.
     He lifts the lifewand and the dumb speak.
     -- Quoiquoiquoiquoiquoiquoiquoiq!

Chapter 8

     O tell me all about
     Anna Livia!  I want to hear  all  about Anna Livia. Well, you know Anna
Livia? Yes, of course,  we  all  know Anna  Livia. Tell me all. Tell me now.
You'll die when  you hear. Well, you know, when the  old cheb went futt  and
did what you know. Yes, I know, go on. Wash quit and don't be dabbling. Tuck
up  your  sleeves and loosen your talktapes. And don't butt  me  -- hike! --
when you bend. Or whatever it was they  threed to make out  he thried to two
in the Fiendish  park. He's an awful old reppe. Look at  the shirt of him  !
Look at the dirt of it! He has all my water black on me. And it steeping and
stuping since this time last wik. How many  goes is it I wonder I washed it?
I know  by  heart the places he likes to saale, duddurty devil! Scorching my
hand and starving my famine to make his private linen public. Wallop it well
with  your battle and clean  it. My wrists are wrusty  rubbing  the  mouldaw
stains. And the dneepers of wet and the gangres of sin in it! What was it he
did a tail  at all  on Animal  Sendai? And how long  was he  under  loch and
neagh?  It was put in  the  newses what he  did, nicies and priers, the King
fierceas  Humphrey, with illysus distilling, exploits and all. But toms will
till.  I  know he  well. Temp untamed will hist for no man. As you spring so
shall you neap. O, the roughty old rappe!  Minxing marrage and  making loof.
Reeve Gootch was right and Reeve Drughad was sinistrous! And the cut of him!
And the strut of him! How he used  to hold his head as high as a howeth, the
famous eld duke alien, with a hump of  grandeur on him like a walking wiesel
rat.  And  his derry's  own drawl and his corksown blather  and his doubling
stutter and his gullaway swank. Ask Lictor  Hackett or Lector Reade of Garda
Growley  or the Boy with  the Billyclub. How elster  is he a  called at all?
Qu'appelle? Huges Caput Earlyfouler. Or where  was he  born or  how  was  he
found?  Urgothland, Tvistown on  the  Kattekat? New Hunshire, Concord on the
Merrimake? Who blocksmitt her saft anvil or yelled lep to her pail?  Was her
banns never  loosened  in Adam  and  Eve's or were him  and  her but captain
spliced? For mine ether duck I thee drake. And by my wildgaze I thee gander.
Flowey and  Mount on  the brink of time  makes wishes and fears for  a happy
isthmass. She can show all her  lines,  with love, license  to  play. And if
they  don't  remarry  that  hook and eye  may !  O, passmore that  and  oxus
another! Don Dom Dombdomb and his  wee follyo! Was his help inshored in  the
Stork and Pelican against bungelars,  flu and third risk parties? I heard he
dug good tin with his doll, delvan first and duvlin after, when he raped her
home, Sabrine asthore, in a parakeet's cage, by dredgerous lands and devious
delts, playing  catched  and mythed with the gleam of her shadda, (if a flic
had been there to pop up and pepper him!) past auld  min's manse and Maisons
Allfou and the rest of  incurables and  the last of  immurables, the  quaggy
waag for stumbling. Who sold you that jackalantern's tale? Pemmican's  pasty
pie! Not a grasshoop to ring her, not an  antsgrain of ore. In a  gabbard he
barqued it, the boat of life,  from the harbourless Ivernikan Okean, till he
spied  the loom of his landfall  and  he loosed two croakers from under  his
tilt, the gran Phenician rover.  By  the smell  of her  kelp  they made  the
pigeonhouse.  Like fun they did! But where was Himself,  the timoneer?  That
marchantman he suivied their  scutties  right over  the wash, his cameleer's
burnous breezing up on him, till with  his runagate  bowmpriss  he roade and
borst  her  bar.  Pilcomayo! Suchcaughtawan! And  the whale's  away with the
grayling!  Tune your  pipes  and  fall ahumming, you born ijypt, and  you're
nothing  short of one! Well,  ptellomey soon and curb your escumo. When they
saw him shoot swift up her  sheba sheath,  like  any gay  lord  salomon, her
bulls they were  ruhring, surfed  with spree. Boyarka  buah!  Boyana bueh~He
erned his lille  Bunbath  hard, our staly bred, the trader. He did. Look  at
here. In this wet of his prow. Don't you  know he was kaldt a  bairn  of the
brine,  Wasserbourne  the  waterbaby?  Havemmarea,  so he was! H.C.E.  has a
codfisck ee. Shyr  she's nearly as  badher as  him herself. Who? Anna Livia?
Ay, Anna Livia. Do you know she was calling bakvandets sals from all around,
nyumba noo, chamba choo, to go in till him, her erring cheef, and tickle the
pontiff aisy-oisy?  She was? Gota  pot! Yssel  that the limmat?  As El Negro
winced when  he wonced in  La Plate. O, tell me all I want to hear, how loft
she was lift a laddery dextro ! A coneywink after the bunting  fell. Letting
on  she didn't  care, sina  feza,  me absantee,  him man in  passession, the
proxenete! Proxenete and phwhat is phthat?  Emme for your reussischer Honddu
jarkon! Tell us  in franca langua. And  call a spate a spate. Did they never
sharee you ebro at skol, you antiabecedarian? It's just the same as if I was
to  go par  examplum  now  in  conservancy's  cause out  of telekinesis  and
proxenete you. For coxyt sake and  is that what she is? Botlettle  I thought
she'd act that loa.  Didn't you spot  her in her windaug, wubbling up on  an
osiery chair,  with a meusic before her all cunniform letters, pretending to
ribble a reedy derg on a fiddle she bogans without a band on? Sure she can't
fiddan a  dee,  with bow or abandon!  Sure,  she can't! Tista suck.  Well, I
never now heard the like of that!  Tell me moher. Tell me moatst.  Well, old
Humber  was as glommen as grampus, with the tares at his thor and the buboes
for ages and neither bowman nor shot abroad and bales allbrant on the crests
of rockies and nera lamp in kitchen or church and giant's holes in Grafton's
causeway and deathcap mushrooms round Funglus  grave and the great tribune's
barrow  all  darnels  occumule,  sittang  sambre  on his sett,  drammen  and
drommen,  usking  queasy  quizzers of his ruful  continence,  his childlinen
scarf  to  encourage  his  obsequies where  he'd check their debths  in that
mormon's thames, be questing and handsetl, hop, step and a deepend, with his
berths in their toiling moil, his swallower open  from swolf to fore and the
snipes of the gutter pecking his crocs, hungerstriking all alone and holding
doomsdag over hunselv, dreeing his weird, with his dander up, and his fringe
combed  over his  eygs  and droming on loft  till the sight  of the sternes,
after zwarthy kowse and weedy broeks and  the tits of buddy and the loits of
pest  and to  peer was Parish worth thette  mess. You'd think  all  was dodo
belonging to him how he durmed adranse in durance vaal. He had been belching
for severn years.  And there  she was, Anna Livia, she darent catch a winkle
of sleep,  purling around like a chit of a child, Wendawanda, a fingerthick,
in a Lapsummer  skirt and damazon cheeks,  for to  ishim bonzour to her dear
dubber Dan.  With neuphraties  and sault from his  maggias. And an  odd time
she'd cook him up blooms of fisk and lay to his heartsfoot her meddery eygs,
yayis,  and staynish beacons  on toasc  and a  cupenhave  so  weeshywashy of
Greenland's tay or a dzoupgan of Kaffue  mokau  an sable or Sikiang sukry or
his ale  of ferns in trueart pewter and a shinkobread (hamjambo, bana?)  for
to  plaise that man  hog stay  his stomicker till her  pyrraknees  shrunk to
nutmeg graters  while her togglejoints shuck with goyt and as rash as  she'd
russ with her peakload of vivers up on her sieve (metauwero  rage it  swales
and rieses) my hardey Hek he'd  kast them frome him, with a  stour of scorn,
as much as to say you sow and you sozh, and if he didn't peg the platteau on
her tawe, believe you me, she was safe enough. And then she'd esk to vistule
a hymn, The Heart Bowed Down or The Rakes of Mallow  or Chelli Michele's  La
Calumnia � un Vermicelli or a balfy bit ov old Jo Robidson.  Sucho fuffing a
fifeing  'twould cut you in  two!  She'd  bate the  hen that crowed  on  the
turrace of Babbel. What harm if she knew how to cockle her mouth ! And not a
mag  out  of  Hum no more  than out of  the mangle  weight. Is that a faith?
That's the fact. Then  riding the ricka and  roya romanche, Annona, gebroren
aroostokrat Nivia, dochter of  Sense and Art, with Sparks' pirryphlickathims
funkling  her fan, anner frostivying  tresses dasht  with virevlies,-- while
the  prom  beauties sreeked nith their  bearers' skins!--in a period gown of
changeable jade that would robe the wood of two cardinals'  chairs and crush
poor Cullen and smother MacCabe.  O blazerskate! Theirs  porpor patches! And
brahming to him  down the  feedchute,  with her femtyfyx  kinds of  fondling
endings,  the  poother  rambling off  her nose:  Vuggybarney,  Wickerymandy!
Hello, ducky, please don't die! Do you know what she started cheeping after,
with a choicey voicey like waterglucks or Madame Delba to Romeoreszk? You'll
never guess. Tell me. Tell me. Phoebe, dearest, tell,  O tell me and I loved
you better nor you knew. And letting on hoon var daft about the warbly sangs
from  over holmen: High hellskirt saw ladies hensmoker  lilyhung pigger: and
soay and  soan  and  so firth  and so forth in a tone sonora and  Oom Bothar
below like Bheri-Bheri in his sandy  cloak, so umvolosy, as  deaf as a yawn,
the  stult! Go away! Poor deef  old deary! Yare only teasing!  Anna  Liv? As
chalk is  my judge! And didn't she  up in sorgues and go and trot  doon  and
stand in  her douro, puffing her old dudheen, and every shirvant siligirl or
wensum  farmerette walking the pilend roads, Sawy, Fundally, Daery or Maery,
Milucre, Awny or Graw, usedn't she make her a simp or sign to slip inside by
the sullyport? You don't say, the sillypost? Bedouix but I do!  Calling them
in, one by one (To Blockbeddum here! Here the Shoebenacaddie!) and legging a
jig or so on the sihl to show them how to shake their benders and the dainty
how to bring to mind the gladdest garments out of sight and all the way of a
maid  with a man and making a sort of a cackling noise like two and  a penny
or half a crown and holding  up a silliver shiner. Lordy, lordy, did she so?
Well, of all  the ones ever I heard! Throwing all the neiss little whores in
the  world at  him! To inny captured wench you wish of no matter what sex of
pleissful ways  two adda tammar  a lizzy a lossie  to  hug and hab  haven in
Humpy's apron!
     And what was the wyerye rima she made! Odet! Odet! Tell me the trent of
it while I'm lathering hail out of Denis Florence MacCarthy's  combies. Rise
it, flut  ye, pian piena! I'm dying down  off my iodine feet  until I lerryn
Anna Livia's cushingloo, that was writ by one and rede by two and trouved by
a poule in the parco! I  can  see that, I  see you  are. How does it tummel?
Listen now. Are you listening? Yes, yes ! Idneed I am ! Tarn your ore ouse !
Essonne inne !
     By earth end  the cloudy  but I badly went e brandnew  bankside, bedamp
and I do, and a plumper at that!
     For the  putty affair I  have is wore out, so it is, sitting,yaping and
waiting  for my old  Dane  hodder  dodderer,  my life in death companion, my
frugal key of our larder,  my much-altered camel's hump, my jointspoiler, my
maymoon's honey, my  fool to the last Decemberer, to wake himself out of his
winter's doze and bore me down like he used to.
     Is there irwell a lord of the manor or a knight of the shire at strike,
I wonder, that'd  dip me a dace or  two in cash  for washing and darning his
worshipful socks for him now we're run out of horsebrose and milk?
     Only for my short  Brittas bed made's as snug as it smells it's out I'd
lep and off  with me to the  slobs  deua Tolka or the  plage  au Clontarf to
feale the gay aire of my salt troublin bay and the race of the saywint up me
ambushure.
     Onon!  Onon!  tell me  more. Tell me every tiny teign.  I want  to know
every  single ingul. Down to  what made the potters fly into  jagsthole. And
why were the vesles vet. That  homa fever's  winning me wome. If a mahun  of
the horse but  hard me! We'd be bundukiboi  meet askarigal.  Well, now comes
the hazelhatchery part. After  Clondalkin  the  Kings's  Inns. We'll soon be
there with the freshet. How many aleveens had  she in  tool? I can't rightly
rede  you that. Close only knows. Some say she had three figures to fill and
confined   herself   to   a   hundred  eleven,   wan  bywan  bywan,   making
meanacuminamoyas.  Olaph lamm et, all  that  pack? We won't have room in the
kirkeyaard. She  can't remember half of the cradlenames she  smacked on them
by the grace of her  boxing  bishop's infallible slipper,  the cane for Kund
and abbles for  Eyolf and ayther nayther for Yakov Yea. A  hundred and  how?
They did  well  to  rechristien her  Pluhurabelle.  O loreley! What a loddon
lodes! Heigh  ho!  But it's quite on the cards she'll shed more and merrier,
twills and trills,  sparefours and  spoilfives, nordsihkes and sudsevers and
ayes and neins to a litter. Grandfarthring nap and Messamisery and the knave
of all knaves and the joker. Heehaw! She must have been a  gadabount  in her
day, so she must, more than  most. Shoal she was,  gidgad. She had a flewmen
of her  owen. Then a toss nare scared that lass, so aimai moe, that's agapo!
Tell me, tell me, how cam she camlin through all her fellows, the neckar she
was, the diveline? Casting her perils before  our swains from Fonte-in-Monte
to Tidingtown  and from Tidingtown  tilhavet.  Linking one  and knocking the
next,  tapting a flank  and tipting a jutty and palling in and pietaring out
and clyding by on her eastway. Waiwhou was the first thurever burst? Someone
he was, whuebra they were, in a tactic  attack  or in single combat. Tinker,
tilar, souldrer, salor,  Pieman  Peace or Polistaman.  That's the thing  I'm
elwys on  edge  to  esk.  Push  up  and  push  vardar  and  come  to  uphill
headquarters!  Was it waterlows year, after Grattan or Flood,  or when maids
were in Arc or when  three  stood hosting? Fidaris will find where the Doubt
arises  like Nieman from  Nirgends found  the  Nihil. Worry you sighin  foh,
Albern, O Anser? Untie the gemman's fistiknots, Qvic and Nuancee! She  can't
put her hand on him for the moment. Tez thelon langlo, walking weary! Such a
loon waybashwards to row!  She sid herself she hardly knows whuon the annals
her graveller was, a dynast of  Leinster, a wolf  of the sea, or what he did
or how blyth she played or  how,  when, why,  where and who offon he jumpnad
her and how it  was gave her away. She was  just a young  thin pale soft shy
slim slip of a thing  then,  sauntering, by silvamoonlake and he was a heavy
trudging lurching lieabroad of a Curraghman, making his hay for whose sun to
shine on, as tough as the oaktrees (peats be with them!) used to rustle that
time down  by the dykes of  killing  Kildare, for forstfellfoss with a plash
across her. She  thought she's sankh neathe the ground  with  nymphant shame
when he gave her the tigris eye ! O happy fault ! Me wish it was he ! You're
wrong there, corribly wrong! Tisn't only tonight  you're anacheronistic!  It
was ages behind that when nullahs were nowhere, in county Wickenlow,  garden
of  Erin, before she  ever dreamt  she'd lave Kilbride and  go foaming under
Horsepass bridge, with the great southerwestern windstorming her  traces and
the  midland's grainwaster asarch  for her track, to  wend her ways byandby,
robecca or  worse, to spin and to grind, to swab and  to thrash, for all her
golden   lifey   in   the   barleyfields   and  pennylotts   of   Humphrey's
fordofhurdlestown and  lie with a landleaper, wellingtonorseher. Alesse, the
lagos of girly days! For the dove of the dunas! Wasut? Izod? Are you sarthin
suir?  Not  where the Finn  fits into  the Mourne, not where  the Nore takes
lieve of Bl�m,  not  where the  Braye divarts the Farer, not  where  the Moy
changez  her minds twixt Cullin  and Conn  tween  Cunn and Collin? Or  where
Neptune  sculled and Tritonville rowed and leandros  three  bumped  heroines
two? Neya, narev, nen, nonni, nos ! Then whereabouts in Ow and Ovoca? Was it
yst  with  wyst or Lucan Yokan or  where the hand of man has never set foot?
Dell me  where,  the fairy  ferse time! I will if you  listen.  You know the
dinkel dale of Luggelaw?  Well, there once dwelt a  local  heremite, Michael
Arklow was his riverend name,  (with  many  a sigh I aspersed his lavabibs!)
and one  venersderg  in  junojuly, oso sweet and so cool  and so  limber she
looked, Nance the Nixie, Nanon L'Escaut, in  the  silence, of the sycomores,
all listening, the kindling curves you simply can't stop feeling, he plunged
both of his newly anointed hands, the core of his  cushlas, in her singimari
saffron strumans of  hair, parting  them  and soothing her  and mingling it,
that  was  deepdark and ample like this  red bog  at  sundown. By that  Vale
Vowclose's  lucydlac,  the reignbeau's  heavenarches  arronged orranged her.
Afrothdizzying galbs, her enamelled eyes indergoading him  on to the  vierge
violetian. Wish a wish! Why a why? Mavro ! Letty Lerck's lafing light  throw
those  laurals now on her daphdaph teasesong  petrock. Maass! But  the majik
wavus has elfun anon  meshes. And Simba the  Slayer of his Oga is  slewd. He
cuddle not help himself, thurso that hot on him, he had to  forget the  monk
in  the  man so, rubbing her up and smoothing her down, he baised his lippes
in  smiling mood, kiss akiss  after kisokushk (as  he  warned  her niver to,
niver to, nevar)  on Anna-na-Poghue's of  the freckled forehead. While you'd
parse  secheressa  she hielt  her souff'.  But she  ruz two feet hire in her
aisne aestumation.  And steppes on stilts ever since. That was kissuahealing
with  bantur for balm!  O, wasn't he  the bold priest?  And  wasn't she  the
naughty  Livvy? Nautic Naama's now her navn. Two lads  in scoutsch  breeches
went   through   her  before  that,  Barefoot   Burn   and   Wallowme  Wade,
Lugnaquillia's noblesse pickts, before she had a hint of a hair at her fanny
to  hide  or a bossom  to tempt a  birch canoedler  not to  mention a bulgic
porterhouse barge. And ere  that again, leada, laida, all unraidy, too faint
to buoy the fairiest  rider, too frail to flirt  with  a cygnet's plume, she
was licked  by a hound, Chirripa-Chirruta,  while poing  her  pee,  pure and
simple,  on  the  spur  of  the  hill   in  old  Kippure,  in  birdsong  and
shearingtime,  but  first  of all, worst  of  all,  the wiggly  livvly,  she
sideslipped out by a gap in the Devil's glen while Sally her nurse was sound
asleep in  a sloot and, feefee fiefie, fell over a spillway before she found
her stride and lay  and wriggled in all the stagnant  black  pools of  rainy
under a fallow coo and  she laughed innocefree  with her limbs  aloft and  a
whole drove of maiden hawthorns blushing and looking askance upon her.
     Drop me  the sound of  the findhorn's  name, Mtu  or Mti, sombogger was
wisness.  And drip me  why in the flenders was she frickled. And trickle  me
through was she marcellewaved or was it weirdly a wig she wore. And whitside
did they droop their glows in their florry, aback to wist or affront to sea?
In fear to hear the dear so near  or longing loth and  loathing longing? Are
you in the swim or are you out? O go in, go on, go an! I mean about what you
know.  I know  right well  what you mean. Rother! You'd  like the coifs  and
guimpes, snouty, and me to do the  greasy jub on old Veronica's wipers. What
am I rancing now  and  I'll thank  you? Is  it a pinny or is it  a surplice?
Arran, where's  your nose? And  where's  the starch?  That's not the  vesdre
benediction smell. I can tell from here by their eau de Colo and  the  scent
of her oder they're Mrs Magrath's.  And you ought to have aird them. They've
moist come  off her. Creases in silk  they are,  not crampton lawn. Baptiste
me,  father, for she has sinned! Through her catchment  ring she freed  them
easy, with her hips' hurrahs for  her knees'dontelleries. The only parr with
frills in  old the plain. So  they are, I declare! Welland well! If tomorrow
keeps fine who'll  come  tripping to sightsee? How'll? Ask  me next  what  I
haven't  got!  The Belvedarean exhibitioners. In  their  cruisery  caps  and
oarsclub colours. What hoo,  they band! And what hoa, they buck! And here is
her  nubilee letters too. Ellis on  quay in  scarlet thread. Linked for  the
world on a flushcaloured field.  Annan exe after  to show  they're not Laura
Keown's. O, may  the  diabolo twisk  your seifety pin! You child  of Mammon,
Kinsella's Lilith! Now  who has  been tearing the leg of her drawars on her?
Which  leg is it? The  one with the bells on  it. Rinse  them out  and aston
along with you! Where did I  stop? Never stop! Continuarration!  You're  not
there yet. I amstel waiting. Garonne, garonne!
     Well,   after   it  was  put   in   the  Mericy   Cordial   Mendicants'
Sitterdag-Zindeh-Munaday  Wakeschrift  (for  once they  sullied  their white
kidloves,  chewing  cuds  after their  dinners of cheeckin  and beggin, with
their show us it here and their mind out of that and their when you're quite
finished with the reading matarial), even the snee that snowdon his  hoaring
hair had  a skunner  against him.  Thaw, thaw, sava, savuto! Score Her Chuff
Exsquire! Everywhere erriff you went and every bung you arver dropped  into,
in cit or suburb or in addled areas, the Rose and  Bottle  or Phoenix Tavern
or Power's Inn  or Jude's Hotel or wherever you scoured the countryside from
Nannywater  to  Vartryville or from Porta  Lateen to the  lootin quarter you
found his ikom etsched tipside down or the cornerboys cammocking his guy and
Morris  the  Man, with  the role  of a  royss in his  turgos  the  turrible,
(Evropeahahn cheic house, unskimmed sooit and yahoort,  hamman now cheekmee,
Ahdahm this way make, Fatima, half tum!) reeling and railing round the local
as  the peihos piped  und ubanjees twanged,  with  oddfellow's  triple tiara
busby   rotundarinking   round   his   scalp.   Like   Pate-by-the-Neva   or
Pete-over-Meer. This is the Hausman all paven and  stoned, that cribbed  the
Cabin that never was owned  that cocked his  leg and hennad his Egg. And the
mauldrin rabble around  him  in areopage, fracassing  a great bingkan cagnan
with  their timpan crowders. Mind your Grimmfather! Think of  your Ma!  Hing
the  Hong is his jove's hangnomen ! Lilt a bolero, bulling a law ! She swore
on croststyx nyne wyndabouts she's be level  with all the snags of them yet.
Par  the Vulnerable  Virgin's Mary  del Dame!  So she  said to herself she'd
frame a plan to fake a  shine,  the mischiefmaker, the like of it you niever
heard. What  plan? Tell me quick and dongu so crould! What the  meurther did
she mague? Well, she bergened a zakbag, a  shammy mailsack, with the lend of
a loan of the light of his lampion, off one of her swapsons, Shaun the Post,
and  then she went and  consulted  her chapboucqs, old  Mot  Moore,  Casey's
Euclid  and  the  Fashion  Display  and made herself tidal  to  join in  the
mascarete. O  gig  goggle  of  gigguels.  I  can't  tell you  how!  It's too
screaming to rizo, rabbit it all! Minneha, minnehi minaaehe,  minneho! O but
you must,  you must  really! Make my hear it gurgle gurgle, like  the farest
gargle  gargle in the dusky dirgle  dargle! By the holy well of Mulhuddart I
swear I'd pledge my chanza getting to heaven through Tirry and Killy's mount
of impiety to  hear it all, aviary word! O, leave me my  faculties, woman, a
while! If you  don't like my story  get  out of the punt. Well, have it your
own way, so. Here, sit down and do as you're bid. Take my stroke and bend to
your bow. Forward in and pull your overthepoise! Lisp it slaney and crisp it
quiet. Deel me longsome. Tongue  your  time now. Breathe thet deep. Thouat's
the fairway. Hurry slow and scheldt you go.  Lynd us your blessed ashes here
till I scrub the canon's underpants. Flow now. Ower more. And pooleypooley.
     First she let her  hair fal and down it flussed to her feet its teviots
winding coils.  Then,  mothernaked, she sampood herself  with  galawater and
fraguant pistania mud,  wupper  and lauar,  from  crown  to  sole.  Next she
greesed the groove of her keel, warthes and wears and mole and  itcher, with
antifouling butterscatch and turfentide and  serpenthyme and  with leafmould
she ushered round prunella isles  and eslats  dun, quincecunct, allover  her
little mary. Peeld gold of  waxwork her jellybelly and her grains of incense
anguille bronze. And after that she wove a garland for her hair. She pleated
it.  She  plaited  it.  Of  meadowgrass  and  riverflags,  the  bulrush  and
waterweed,  and  of  fallen  griefs of  weeping  willow.  Then she made  her
bracelets and her anklets and her armlets and a jetty amulet for necklace of
clicking cobbles and pattering pebbles  and rumbledown rubble, richmond  and
rehr, of Irish rhunerhinerstones and shellmarble bangles. That done,  a dawk
of smut to her  airy ey, Annushka Lutetiavitch  Pufflovah,  and the lellipos
cream to her lippeleens and the pick of the paintbox for her pommettes, from
strawbirry reds to extra  violates, and  she sendred her boudeloire maids to
His Affluence, Ciliegia  Grande  and Kirschie  Real, the two chirsines, with
respecks from his missus, seepy and sewery, and a request might she passe of
him for a minnikin. A call to pay and light a taper, in Brie-on-Arrosa, back
in  a sprizzling. The cock  striking  mine, the stalls bridely sign, there's
Zambosy waiting for Me! She said she wouldn't be half her length away. Then,
then, as soon as the lump his back was turned, with her mealiebag slang over
her shulder, Anna Livia, oysterface, forth of her bassein came.
     Describe her! Hustle along, why can't you? Spitz on the iern while it's
hot. I wouldn't miss her for irthing  on  nerthe. Not for the lucre of lomba
strait. Oceans of Gaud, I mosel hear that! Ogowe presta! Leste, before Julia
sees her!  Ishekarry  and washemeskad,  the  carishy caratimaney? Whole lady
fair? Duodecimoroon? Bon a ventura? Malagassy? What had she  on, the  liddel
oud  oddity? How much did she  scallop,  harness and weights? Here  she  is,
Amnisty Ann! Call her calamity electrifies man.
     No  electress at all but old Moppa  Necessity, angin mother  of injons.
I'll tell you a test.  But  you must sit still. Will you hold your peace and
listen well to what I am going to  say now? It might have been ten or twenty
to one of the night of Allclose or the nexth of April when  the flip of  her
hoogly igloo flappered and out toetippit a bushman woman, the dearest little
moma ever you saw, nodding around her, all smiles, with ems of embarras  and
aues to awe, between two ages, a judyqueen, not  up to your elb. Quick, look
at her  cute and  saise her  quirk for the bicker she lives the slicker  she
grows. Save us and tagus ! No more? Werra where  in ourthe did you ever pick
a Lambay chop as big as  a  battering ram?  Ay, you're  right. I'm  epte  to
forgetting, Like Liviam Liddle did Loveme Long. The linth of my hough, I say
!  She  wore a ploughboy's  nailstudded  clogs,  a pair of  ploughfields  in
themselves: a sugarloaf hat with a gaudyquiviry peak and a band of gorse for
an arnoment  and a hundred streamers dancing off it and  a guildered  pin to
pierce it:  owlglassy bicycles boggled her eyes: and a fishnetzeveil for the
sun not to spoil the wrinklings of her hydeaspects: potatorings boucled  the
loose   laubes   of   her  laudsnarers:   her  nude  cuba   stockings   were
salmospotspeckled: she  sported  a  galligo shimmy of hazevaipar tinto  that
never was fast till it ran  in  the washing: stout stays, the rivals,  lined
her length:  her  bloodorange  bockknickers, a two  in one  garment,  showed
natural  nigger boggers,  fancyfastened, free to  undo: her  blackstripe tan
joseph was sequansewn and teddybearlined, with wavy rushgreen epaulettes and
a leadown here and there of royal swansruff: a brace of gaspers stuck in her
hayrope  garters:  her  civvy  codroy  coat  with  alpheubett  buttons   was
boundaried  round  with  a  twobar  tunnel  belt:  a  fourpenny bit in  each
pocketside weighed her safe from the blowaway windrush; she had a clothespeg
tight astride on her joki's nose and she kep on grinding a sommething quaint
in her fiumy mouth and  the rrreke of the fluve of the tail of  the gawan of
her snuffdrab siouler's skirt trailed  ffiffty odd  Irish  miles behind  her
lungarhodes.
     Hellsbells, I'm sorry I missed her! Sweet gumptyum and nobody fainted !
But in whelk of her mouths? Was her naze  alight? Everyone that saw her said
the  dowce little delia looked a  bit queer. Lotsy  trotsy, mind the poddle!
Missus,  be  good  and don't fol in the say! Fenny poor  hex  she  must have
charred. Kickhams a frumpier ever  you saw! Making mush mullet's eyes at her
boys dobelon. And they  crowned her  their chariton queen, all the maids. Of
the may? You  don't say!  Well  for her she couldn't see herself. I recknitz
wharfore the darling murrayed  her  mirror. She did? Mersey me! There was  a
koros  of   drouthdropping   surfacemen,   boomslanging   and   plugchewing,
fruiteyeing and flowerfeeding, in contemplation  of the fluctuation and  the
undification of her filimentation, lolling and leasing on North Lazers' Waal
all eelfare week by the Jukar Yoick's and as soon as they saw her meander by
that marritime way in her grasswinter's weeds and  twigged who was under her
archdeaconess bonnet,  Avondale's fish and  Clarence's poison,  sedges an to
aneber, Wit-uponCrutches to Master Bates: Between our two southsates and the
granite they're warming, or her face has been lifted or Alp has doped!
     But what was the game in her  mixed baggyrhatty?  Just the tembo in her
tumbo or pilipili from her  pepperpot? Saas and taas and specis bizaas.  And
where in thunder did she plunder? Fore the  battle or efter the ball? I want
to  get it  frisk from the  soorce.  I aubette  my  bearb  it's worth  while
poaching  on! Shake  it  up, do,  do! That's  a good old son of a  ditch!  I
promise I'll  make it worth your while. And I don't mean maybe. Nor yet with
a goodfor. Spey me pruth and I'll tale you true.
     Well, arundgirond in a waveney lyne aringarouma  she pattered and swung
and sidled,  dribbling her boulder through narrowa mosses,  the diliskydrear
on  our drier side  and  the vilde  vetchvine agin us,  curara here, careero
there,  not knowing which  medway  or weser  to strike it, edereider, making
chattahoochee all to her  ain chichiu, like Santa Claus  at the cree  of the
pale and puny, nistling to hear for their tiny hearties, her arms encircling
Isolabella, then running with reconciled Romas and Reims,  on like a lech to
be off  like a dart,  then bathing Dirty Hans' spatters with spittle, with a
Christmas box apiece for  aisch  and iveryone  of  her childer, the birthday
gifts  they dreamt they gabe her, the  spoiled she fleetly laid at our door!
On the matt, by the pourch and inunder the cellar. The rivulets ran aflod to
see, the glashaboys, the pollynooties. Out of the paunschaup on to the pyre.
And  they all about  her, juvenile leads and ingenuinas,  from  the slime of
their slums and artesaned wellings,  rickets and riots, like the  Smyly boys
at  their vicereine's levee. Vivi vienne, little  Annchen! Vielo Anna,  high
life! Sing  us a sula,  O,  susuria! Ausone  sidulcis!  Hasn't  she  tambre!
Chipping her  and raising a bit of a chir or a jary every  dive she'd neb in
her  culdee  sacco  of  wabbash  she   raabed  and   reach  out  her  maundy
meerschaundize, poor souvenir as  per  ricorder and all for sore aringarung,
stinkers  and  heelers,  laggards  and primelads,  her  furzeborn  sons  and
dribblederry daughters,  a  thousand and one of them,  and wickerpotluck for
each of them. For evil  and  ever. And  kiks the buch. A tinker's bann and a
barrow to boil his billy for Gipsy Lee; a cartridge of cockaleekie soup  for
Chummy  the  Guardsman;  for  sulky  Pender's  acid  nephew  delto�d  drops,
curiously  strong;  a  cough and  a  rattle and  wildrose  cheeks  for  poor
Piccolina  Petite MacFarlane;  a  jigsaw puzzle  of  needles  and  pins  and
blankets and shins between them  for Isabel, Jezebel and Llewelyn Mmarriage;
a brazen nose and pigiron mittens for Johnny Walker Beg; a papar flag of the
saints and  stripes  for Kevineen O'Dea; a puffpuff  for  Pudge  Craig and a
nightmarching hare  for Techertim Tombigby;  waterleg and gumboots each  for
Bully  Hayes and Hurricane Hartigan;  a prodigal heart and fatted calves for
Buck Jones, the pride of Clonliffe; a loaf of bread and a father's early aim
for Val  from Skibereen;  a  jauntingcar  for  Larry  Doolin,  the Ballyclee
jackeen; a seasick trip on  a government ship for Teague O'Flanagan; a louse
and trap for Jerry Coyle;  slushmincepies for Andy Mackenzie; a hairclip and
clackdish  for Penceless  Peter; that twelve sounds look for G. V. Brooke; a
drowned doll, to face downwards for modest Sister Anne Mortimer; altar falls
for  Blanchisse's bed; Wildairs'  breechettes for  Magpeg Woppington; to Sue
Dot  a  big  eye;  to  Sam  Dash a false step; snakes  in clover, picked and
scotched,  and a vaticanned viper  catcher's visa for  Patsy Presbys; a reiz
every morning  for Standfast  Dick and a  drop every minute for Stumblestone
Davy;  scruboak beads  for beatified  Biddy;  two appletweed stools  for Eva
Mobbely;  for  Saara Philpot  a  jordan  vale  tearorne;  a  pretty  box  of
Pettyfib's Powder for Eileen  Aruna  to whiten her teeth and outflash  Helen
Arhone; a whippingtop for  Eddy Lawless; for Kitty Coleraine  of Butterman's
Lane a  penny wise for her foolish  pitcher; a  putty  shovel for Terry  the
Puckaun;  an  apotamus  mask  for  Promoter  Dunne;  a  niester egg  with  a
twicedated shell  and  a  dynamight  right for  Pavl  the  Curate; a collera
morbous for Mann in the Cloack; a starr and girton for Draper and Deane; for
Will-of-the-Wisp  and  Barny-the-Bark  two mangolds noble  to  sweeden their
bitters; for Oliver Bound a  way in his frey;  for Seumas, thought little, a
crown he  feels big; a tibertine's pile with  a Congoswood cross on the back
for  Sunny Twimjim;  a  praises be and  spare  me days for  Brian-the Bravo;
penteplenty of pity with lubilashings of lust for Olona  Lena Magdalena; for
Camilla, Dromilla, Ludmilla, Mamilla,  a  bucket, a  packet, a  book  and  a
pillow; for Nancy  Shannon a Tuami  brooch; for  Dora Riparia Hopeandwater a
cooling douche and a warmingpan; a pair of Blarney braggs for Wally Meagher;
a  hairpin slatepencil  for Elsie Oram to scratch her  toby,  doing her best
with  her volgar fractions; an  old age pension for Betty Bellezza; a bag of
the  blues  for  Funny Fitz; a Missa pro Messa for  Taff de Taff; Jill,  the
spoon of a girl, for Jack,  the broth of a boy;  a  Rogerson Crusoe's Friday
fast  for Caducus Angelus Rubiconstein; three  hundred  and sixtysix  poplin
tyne for revery  warp  in the weaver's  woof  for Victor  Hugonot;  a  stiff
steaded rake  and good varians  muck  for Kate the Cleaner;  a  hole  in the
ballad for Hosty; two dozen of cradles for J.F.X.P. Coppinger; tenpounten on
the  pop for  the daulphins  born with  five  spoiled squibs  for Infanta; a
letter  to  last a  lifetime for  Maggi  beyond by the ashpit;  the heftiest
frozenmeat woman from  Lusk  to  Livienbad  for  Felim  the Ferry;  spas and
speranza  and  symposium's  syrup for  decayed  and blind and gouty Gough; a
change  of naves  and  joys  of  ills  for  Armoricus  Tristram Amoor  Saint
Lawrence; a guillotine shirt for Reuben Redbreast and hempen suspendeats for
Brennan on the Moor; an  oakanknee for Conditor Sawyer and musquodoboits for
Great Tropical Scott; a C3 peduncle for Karmalite Kane; a sunless map of the
month, including the sword and stamps, for Shemus O'Shaun the Post; a jackal
with hide for Browne but Nolan; a stonecold shoulder for Donn Joe Vance; all
lock and  no  stable for  Honorbright Merreytrickx;  a big  drum  for  Billy
Dunboyne;  a  guilty  goldeny bellows, below  me blow me,for Ida  Ida  and a
hushaby  rocker,Elletrouvetout,for  Who-issilvier  -- Where-is-he?; whatever
you  like  to swilly to swash, Yuinness  or Yennessy,  Laagen or  Niger, for
Festus King  and Roaring Peter and  Frisky Shorty and  Treacle Tom and O. B.
Behan and Sully the Thug  and Master Magrath and Peter Cloran and O'Delawarr
Rossa  and  Nerone  MacPacem and whoever you chance to meet knocking around;
and a pig's bladder balloon  for  Selina Susquehanna  Stakelum. But what did
she give  to Pruda Ward and Katty Kanel and Peggy Quilty and  Briery  Brosna
and Teasy Kieran  and Ena  Lappin and Muriel  Maassy  and  Zusan  Camac  and
Melissa Bradogue  and Flora Ferns and Fauna  Fox-Goodman and Grettna Greaney
and Penelope Inglesante and Lezba Licking like Leytha Liane and Roxana Rohan
with Simpatica Sohan and Una  Bina Laterza and Trina La  Mesme and Philomena
O'Farrell  and  Irmak  Elly  and  Josephine Foyle  and Snakeshead  Lily  and
Fountainoy Laura and  Marie Xavier Agnes Daisy Frances de Sales Macleay? She
gave them  ilcka  madre's  daughter a moonflower  and  a bloodvein: but  the
grapes  that  ripe before  reason to them that  devide the  vinedress. So on
Izzy, her shamemaid, love shone befond her tears as from Shem, her penmight,
life past befoul his prime.
     My colonial, wardha bagful! A bakereen's  dusind with  tithe tillies to
boot. That's what you may call a tale of a tub ! And Hibernonian market! All
that  and  more  under  one crinoline  envelope  if you dare  to  break  the
porkbarrel seal. No wonder they'd run from her pison plague. Throw  us  your
hudson soap for the honour of Clane! The wee taste the water left. I'll raft
it  back, first thing in  the marne. Merced mulde! Ay, and don't  forget the
reckitts I  lohaned you.  You've  all the swirls your  side  of the current.
Well, am I to blame for that if I have? Who said you're to blame for that if
you have? You're  a bit  on the  sharp side. I'm on the wide. Only snuffers'
cornets drifts my way that the cracka dvine chucks out of his cassock,  with
her estheryear's marsh  narcissus to make  him recant his vanitty fair. Foul
strips  of his chinook's bible  I  do  be reading,  dodwell  disgustered but
chickled with chuckles at the tittles is drawn  on the tattlepage. Senior ga
dito:  Faciasi Omo! E omo fu fo. Ho!  Ho!  Senior ga dito:  Faciasi  Hidamo!
Hidamo se ga facess.... Ha!  Ha!  And  Die  Windermere  Dichter  and  Lefanu
(Sheridan's) old House by the Coachyard and Mill (J.) On Woman with Ditto on
the Floss. Ja, a swamp for Altmuehler and a  stone for his flossies ! I know
how  racy they move his wheel. My hands are blawcauld between isker and suda
like that piece of pattern chayney there, lying below. Or where is it? Lying
beside the sedge I  saw  it. Hoangho,  my sorrow, I've lost it! Aimihi! With
that turbary water who could see? So near and yet so  far! But O,  gihon!  I
lovat a gabber. I could listen to maure and moravar again. Regn onder river.
Flies do your float. Thick is the life for mere.
     Well, you know or don't you kennet or  haven't I told you every telling
has a taling and that's  the he  and the she of it.  Look, look, the dusk is
growing! My branches lofty are taking root. And my  cold cher's gone ashley.
Fieluhr? Filou! What age is at? It saon  is late. 'Tis endless now senne eye
or  erewone last saw Waterhouse's clogh. They took  it  asunder, I hurd thum
sigh. When will  they reassemble it? O,  my back, my back, my bach! I'd want
to go to Aches-les-Pains. Pingpong!  There's  the Belle for  Sexaloitez! And
Concepta  de  Send-us-pray!  Pang!  Wring out the clothes! Wring in the dew!
Godavari, vert the showers! And grant thaya grace! Aman. Will we spread them
here now?  Ay, we will.  Flip ! Spread on your bank and I'll spread  mine on
mine. Flep! It's what  I'm doing. Spread ! It's churning chill. Der went  is
rising.  I'll lay a few stones  on the hostel  sheets. A man  and his  bride
embraced between  them.  Else I'd have sprinkled  and folded them only.  And
I'll tie my butcher's apron here. It's suety yet. The strollers will pass it
by.  Six shifts,  ten kerchiefs,  nine to hold  to the fire and this for the
code,  the convent napkins,twelve,  one  baby's  shawl.  Good mother Jossiph
knows, she said. Whose head? Mutter snores? Deataceas!  Wharnow are alle her
childer,  say?  In  kingdome  gone or power  to come  or  gloria  be to them
farther? Allalivial, allalluvial! Some  here,  more no more, more again lost
alla stranger. I've heard tell that same brooch  of the Shannons was married
into a family in Spain. And all the Dunders de Dunnes in Markland's Vineland
beyond Brendan's herring pool takes  number nine in  yangsee's hats. And one
of Biddy's  beads went  bobbing till she  rounded up lost histereve  with  a
marigold  and a  cobbler's  candle  in a side strain of  a  main drain  of a
manzinahurries off Bachelor's  Walk.  But all that's left to the last of the
Meaghers in the loup of the years prefixed and between is one kneebuckle and
two hooks in the front. Do you tell  me.  that now? I do in troth. Orara por
Orbe  and poor Las  Animas! Ussa, Ulla,  we're umbas  all! Mezha, didn't you
hear it  a deluge of times, ufer and ufer,  respund  to spond? You deed, you
deed!  I need, I need! It's that irrawaddyng  I've stoke in my aars.  It all
but husheth the lethest zswound. Oronoko ! What's your trouble? Is that  the
great Finnleader himself in his joakimono on his statue riding the high hone
there forehengist? Father of Otters, it is himself! Yonne there! Isset that?
On  Fallareen  Common? You're thinking of  Astley's Amphitheayter where  the
bobby restrained you making sugarstuck pouts to the ghostwhite horse of  the
Peppers.  Throw the cobwebs  from your eyes, woman,  and spread your washing
proper! It's well I know your sort of  slop. Flap! Ireland  sober is Ireland
stiff Lord  help  you, Maria, full  of  grease,  the  load is with me!  Your
prayers.  I  sonht zo! Madammangut! Were you  lifting your elbow,  tell  us,
glazy  cheeks,  in Conway's Carrigacurra canteen? Was  I what, hobbledyhips?
Flop! Your rere gait's creakorheuman bitts your  butts disagrees. Amn't I up
since the  damp tawn, marthared  mary  allacook,  with Corrigan's  pulse and
varicoarse veins, my  pramaxle smashed, Alice Jane in decline and my oneeyed
mongrel  twice run over,  soaking  and  bleaching boiler rags, and  sweating
cold, a  widow like me, for to deck my tennis  champion son,  the laundryman
with  the lavandier  flannels?  You won your  limpopo  limp  fron  the husky
hussars when Collars and  Cuffs was heir to the town and your  slur gave the
stink to Carlow. Holy Scamander, I sar it again! Near the golden falls. Icis
on us! Seints of light! Zezere! Subdue your noise, you hamble creature! What
is it but a  blackburry growth  or the dwyergray ass them four  old  codgers
owns. Are you meanam Tarpey and  Lyons and Gregory? I meyne now, thank  all,
the four of them, and the  roar of  them, that draves that stray in the mist
and  old  Johnny  MacDougal  along with them. Is  that  the Poolbeg  flasher
beyant, pharphar, or a fireboat coasting nyar the Kishtna or a glow I behold
within a hedge or my Garry come back from the Indes? Wait till  the honeying
of the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in your eye.
We'll  meet again,  we'll part  once more.  The spot I'll  seek if the  hour
you'll  find.   My  chart   shines  high   where   the  blue  milk's  upset.
Forgivemequick, I'm  going!  Bubye! And you,  pluck your watch, forgetmenot.
Your evenlode. So save to  jurna's end! My sights are swimming thicker on me
by the shadows to this place.  I sow  home slowly now by own way,  moyvalley
way. Towy I too, rathmine.
     Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia, trinkettoes!
And sure he was the quare old buntz too, Dear Dirty Dumpling, foostherfather
of fingalls and dotthergills. Gammer  and gaffer we're  all their gangsters.
Hadn't he seven dams to wive him? And every dam  had her seven crutches. And
every crutch had its seven hues. And each hue had a differing cry. Sudds for
me and supper  for  you and the doctor's bill for Joe John. Befor! Bifur! He
married  his markets,  cheap by foul,  I  know,  like any  Etrurian Catholic
Heathen, in their pinky limony creamy  birnies  and their  turkiss  indienne
mauves. But at milkidmass who  was the  spouse?  Then all that was was fair.
Tys Elvenland ! Teems of times and happy returns. The seim anew. Ordovico or
viricordo. Anna  was, Livia  is, Plurabelle's to  be.  Northmen's thing made
southfolk's place  but  howmulty plurators made eachone in  person? Latin me
that,  my  trinity scholard,  out  of eure sanscreed into oure eryan! Hircus
Civis Eblanensis!  He had buckgoat paps on him,  soft ones for  orphans. Ho,
Lord ! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His
tittering daughters of. Whawk?
     Can't  hear  with  the waters  of. The chittering waters of. Flittering
bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are  you  not  gone ahome? What Thom  Malone?
Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffeying waters of. Ho, talk save us
! My foos won't moos. I  feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told  of Shaun or
Shem? All Livia's daughtersons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head
halls. I feel as heavy as  yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun?  Who were
Shem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me,
tell me, elm! Night night!  Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside  the rivering
waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night!
Last-modified: Mon, 10 Sep 2001 05:43:20 GMT
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