Galleys, 2 sets, February-June 1938, II.1§7 draft level 7, 7+
MS British Library 47477 295-296; missing Draft details
While, running about their ways, going and coming, now at rhimba rhomba, now in trippiza trappaza, pleating a pattern Gran Geamatron showed them of gracehoppers, auntskippers and coneyfarm leppers, they jeerilied along, durian gay and marian maidcap, lou Dariou beside la Marieto, all boy more all girl singoutfeller longa house blong store Huddy, whilest nin nin nin nin that Boorman's clock a winny on the tinny side ninned nin nin nin nin, about old Father Barley, of how he got up of a morning arley and he met with a plattonem blondes named Hips and Haws and fell in with a foxy fellows of Trinity some headder Skowood Shaws like (You'll catch it, don't fret, Mrs Tummy Laptin! Come indoor, Scoffynosey, and shed your swank!) auld Daddy Deacon who could stow well his place of beacon but he never could hold his kerosene's candle to (The nurse'll give it to you, stickypots! And you wait, my lasso, fecking the twine!) bold Farmer Burleigh who wuck up in a hurly wurly where he huddly could wuddle to wallow his weg tilbag of the baker's booth to beg of (You're well held now, Missy Cheekspeer, and your panto's off! Fie, for shame, Ruth Wheatacre, after all the booz said!) illed Diddiddy Achin for the prize of a pease of bakin with a pinch of the panch of the ponch in jurys for (Ah, crabeyes, I have you, showing off to the world with that gape in your stocking!) wold Forrester Farley who, in deesperation of deispiration at the diasporation of his diesparation, was found of the round of the sound of the lound of the
The play thou schouwburgst, Game, here endeth. The curtain drops by deep request.
Gonn the gawds, Gunnar's gustspells. |7When the h, who the hu, how the hue, where the huer? Orbiter onswers: lots lives lost.7| Fionia is fed up with Fidge Fudgesons. Sealand snorres.
Rendningrocks roguesreckning reigns. Gwds with gnrs are gttrdmmrng. Hlls vlls. The timid hearts of words all exeomnosunt. Mannagad, lammalelouh, how do that come? By Dad, youd nat heed thet fert! Fulgituder ejist rowdownan tonuout. Qorq! And buncskleydoodle! Kidoosh! Of their fear they broke, they ate wind, they fled; where they ate there they fled; of their fear they fled, they broke away. Go to, let us extol Azrael with our harks, by our brews, on our jambses, in his gaits. To Mezouzalem with the Dephilim, didits dinkun's dud? Yip! Yup! Yarrah! And let Nek Nekulon extol Mak Makal and let him say unto him:
Immi ammi Semmi. And shall not Babel be with Lebab? And he war. And he shall open his mouth and answer: I hear, O Ismael, how thy laud is only as my loud is one. If Nekulon shall be havonfalled surely Makal haven hevens. Go to, let us extell Makal, yea, let us exceedingly extell. Though you have lien amung your posspots my excellency is over Ismael. Great is him whom is over Ismael and he shall mekanek of Mak Nakulon. And he deed.
For the Clearer of the Air from on high has spoken in tumbuldum tambaldam to his tembledim tombaldoom worrild and, moguphonoised by that phonemanon, the unhappitents of the earth have terrerumbled from firmament unto fundament and from tweedledeedumms down to twiddledeedees.
Loud, hear us!
Loud, graciously hear us!
Now have thy children entered into their habitations. And nationglad, camp meeting over, to shin it, Dad be thanked. Thou hast closed the portals of the habitations of thy children and thou hast set thy guards thereby, even Garda Didymus and Garda Domas, that thy children may read in the book of the opening of the mind to thy light and err not in the darkness which is the afterthought of thy
nomatter by the guardiance of those guards which are thy bodemen, the cheeryboyum chirryboth with the kerrybommers in their krubeems, Pray-your-Prayers Timothy and Back-to-Bunk Tom.
|7Till tree from tree, tree among trees, tree over tree become tree stone to stone, stone between stones, stone under stone for ever.7|
O Loud, hear the wee beseech of thees, of each of these thy unlitten ones! Grant sleep in hour's time, O Loud!
That they take no chill. That they do ming no merder. That they shall not gomeet madhowlattrees.
Loud, heap miseries upon us yet entwine our arts with laughters low!
Ha he hi ho hu.