Mixed fair copy/TS, April 1926, §1A draft level 6, 6+

MS British Library 47483 33-35, 42-45 Draft details

{f39, 403}
{f10, 313}


Tolv two elf kater ten (it can't be) sax.


Pedwar pemp foify tray (it must be) Twelve!

And low stole o'er the stillness the heartbeats of sleep.

Methought as I was dropping asleep somepart in nonland of where's please I heard at zero hour as 'twere the peal of vixen's laughter among midnight's chimes from out the belfry of the cute old speckled church tolling so faint a goodmantrue as nighthood's unseen violet rendered all animated British and Irish objects nonviewable to human watchers save 'twere perchance anon some glistery
{f39, 404}
gleam darkling adown surface of affluvial flowandflow as again might seem garments of laundry reposing a leasward close at hand in full expectation. And as I was jogging along in a dream as dozing I was dawdling, arrah, methought broadtone was heard and all vociferated, echoating: Shaun! Shaun! Post the post! with a high voice and, O, the higher on high the deeper and low. I
{f10, 314}
heard him so. And lo, meseemed somewhat came of the noise and somewho might amove among allmurk. Now 'twas as clump, now mayhap. When look was light and now 'twas as flasher, now more as the glow. Ah, in unlitness 'twas in verity, bless me, 'twas his belted lamp! Ay, he who so swayed a will of a wisp before me, dressed like an earl in just the correct wear, in a classy mac Frieze o'coat of far superior ruggedness, indigo braw, tracked and tramped, freeswinging from his shoulthern, and thick welted brogues on him hammered to suit the scotsmost public and climate, iron heels and sparable soles, and his jacket of providence wellprovided woollies with a softrolling lisp of a lapel to it and great sealingwax buttons and his invulnerable burlap whiskcoat and the damasker's overshirt he sported inside, a starspangled zephyr with a decidedly surplice front with his motto through dear life embrothered over it in peas, rice and yeggyolk, R for royal, M for Mail, R.M.D. hard cash on the nail, and the most successfully carried trousers now you ever breaking over the ankle and hugging the shoeheel, everything the best, was none other from (Ah, then, may the turtle's blessings of God and Mary and Haggispatrick and Huggisbrigid be souptumbling all over him!) other than (and may his hundred thousand welcome stewed
{f39, 405}
letters multiply, ay, faith, and plultiply!) Shaun himself.

Had I the concordant wiseheads of Messrs Gregory and Lyons alongside of Dr Tarpey's and the reverend Mr MacDougall's, but I, poor ass, am but as their fourpart tinckler's ass. Yet methought Shaun (holy messenger angels be uninterruptedly nudging him among and along the winding ways of random ever!) Shaun in proper person (now may all the bluebacksliding constellations continue to shape his changeable timetable!) stood before me. And I pledge you my word that young fellow looked the stuff, a prime card if ever was! Now without deceit it is hardly too much to say he was looking grand, so fired smart, in much more than his usual health. No mistaking that beamish brow! The heart of the roll! He was immense, topping swell, for he was after having a great time of it in a porterhouse if you want to know where he had recruited his strength by means of mounds of food constituting his three principal meals plus a collation, his breakfast of, first, a bless us O blood and thirsthy orange, next, the half a pound of bacon with newlaid googs and a rice pudding and some cold steak from yesternight, then
{f39, 406}
came along his dinner of a half a pound of round steak with a side of riceypeasy alla mellonge and bacon with a pair of chops thrown in by the proprietoress of the roastery who lives on a hill and gravy and a bulby onion as well and then finally to his regret his supper cum nightcap, vitellusit, bacon with broad beans and steak while 'twas after that he scoffed a duckeling snuggily stuffed following cold loin of veal with cabbage and, in their green free state, peas, last. Drily thankful. Bread free of charge. And the best of wine. And thicker will he grow now, grow
{f10, 316}
now. At the sign of Mistress Vanhungrig. Mind you, I don't mean to say for the moment that he was gluttonous as regards chewable edibles but he grubbed his tuck all right every time he felt like a bottle of porter on a tart. And he was so jaunty with a romp of a schoolgirl's complexion sitting pretty over his printface and he was plainly out on the mash for he sproke.

When lo meheard I saw the voice of Shaun how so it sighed to scented nightlife as softly as the loftly marconimasts from Clifden sigh open tireless secrets to Nova Scotia's listing sisterpoles.

— Alo, alass, aladdin, amobus! Shaun yawned, addressing himself ex alto and complaining it was so close as of the fact of him
{f39, 408}
earning his board in the sweat of his feet as, having moistened his mouth upon the quiet and scooping
{f10, 317}
molars and grinders clean with his two forefingers, he sank down at once, (disgusted with himself that the combined weight was too much for him), upon the native heath he loved, covered with virgin bush. Well, I'm literally shot seeing myself in this trim! How all too unworthy am I, a mere mailman of peace, a poor hastehater of the first degree, for such eminence, or unpro promenade rather, to be much more exact, as to be the bearer extraordinary of these missive on his majesty's service. I cannot on my solemn merits recollect ever having done of anything of the kind to deserve of such. Saint Anthony Guide!

— But have we until now ever besought you, dear Shaun, we remembered, who it was, to begin with, who gave you the permit?
{f10, 318}

— Goodbye, Shaun |v6replied, everybody. replied. Everybody.v6| My heaviest |v6cross cruxv6| it is. I have it from Saint Columbkiller's prophecies.

— Then, we explained, you possibly might be so by order?

— Forgive me, Shaun repeated from his liquid lipes, it was condemned on me |6primatially6| |v6by the propheciesv6| and there does be a power coming
{f39, 410}
over me that is put upon me from on high and so as it is becoming |v6heredittary hairydittaryv6| I have nothing in view to look forward at. Almost might I say I am now becoming about fed up be going about and that is why I was utterly complexed by thinking of the river as a way out or bury |v6myself meself v6| deep in |s6the mys6| wineupon pontoon as I am hopeless to be doing anything concerning.

— Honest Shaun, we agreed, a whisper reaches us that in the end it may well turn
{f10, 319}
out to be you who will bear these open letter.

— As, Shaun replied patly, to that I have the |v6power. And power and v6| that has a lot to |v6do sayv6| with everything.

— Would you mind telling us, Shaun honey, we proposed to such a dear youth, where mostly are you able to work?

— I, Shaun replied while he was fondling one of his cowheel cuffs, mostly am able to walk, being too soft for work proper. I am always telling them how
{f39, 411}
it was foretold for me by brevet, while possessing stout legs, to be disbarred after holy orders from unnecessary servile work of all sorts for the relics of my time, for otherwise I would get into a blame there. His hungry will be done! But, believe me, in my simplicity I am awful good, I believe, so I am, at the root of me. And I can now truthfully declare with my |6fleshfettered6| |v6palms palumsºv6| on the |v6epistles epizzles v6| that I do my |v6reasonable reasonabler'sv6| best to recite my grocery |v6beads beansv6| for mummy and dummy |v6regularly regular,v6| genuflections enclosed. In fact, always have, I believe.

— Yet one minute's observation, dear |v6domestic |adoymestic dogmestica|v6| Shaun, as we point out how you have |6while away6| painted our town |v6|ato wear a wearinga|v6| green.

— O |v6murder! |+murner! murder mere, how did you hear?+|v6| Shaun replied, smiling the oily way up his lampsleeve, so shy of light was he then. Well, so be it! |6The gloom hath rays, her lamp is love.6| And I will confess to have, yes. And I am afraid it wouldn't
{f10, 320}
be my first |6time coat's wasting6| like the regular |6fellow redshank6| I am. Somebody may perhaps say I was wrong. No such a thing! You never made a more |v6frightful fruitfulv6| mistake! But it is grandiose, by my ways of thinking, from the |6prophecies, and prophecies. New worlds for all! And6| they were |6particularly scotographically6| arranged for gentlemen only by a scripchewer in Whofoundland who finds he is a relative. And it was with my extravert davy, |v6my heart's my moyhard's daylight, thumb, thumb daynoightº, th tomthumbv6|.

— Do you mean, we gathered substantively, whether varnish would or verdure dyes?

— It is a |v6confounded confoundyousºv6| injective|v6,v6| |6so6| to say |v6itv6|, Shaun, the fiery boy, shouted, naturally incensed, as he shook the red pepper out of his auricles. And another time please confine your glaring |6insinuations intinuations6| to some other mordant body. What on the |v6face physiogv6| of this furnished planet would I be doing besides your verjuice? That is more than I can fix anyway. So let |v6you and I I and youv6| now kindly drop that, angryman! Understand me when I tell you that under the past purcell's office, so deeply deplored by my erstwhile elder friend, Miss Sanders, poachmistress in particular to the |6Irish Scotic6| Poor Men's |v6Cow's Cowv6| Society, |v6albethey allbetheyv6| blessed with twentytwo thousand sorters out of a biggest |v6possible poss ofv6| twentytwo thousand, |v6mine's won,ºv6| too much privet stationery was ate up larchly by those nettlesome goats out of pension |6greed6|. It is also one of my |v6avowed avowal'sv6| intentions at some time, when I am not |6prepared prepaidº6| to say, to comprose quite the makings of a verdigrease savingsbook surrounding this matter so long as,
{f39, 413}
|v6thank thanks to force ofv6| destiny, I am |v6prepaid propairedv6|.

— Otherwise, frank Shaun, we pursued, what would be the |6biography autobiography6| of your softbodied |v6uniform funiformv6|?

— None |v6whatsoever whomsoeverv6|, Shaun replied (he was peering |v6nowv6| rather close |v6at tov6| the paste of his winklering), though it |6would ought to6| be more or less |6rococo6| |v6romantic romanticalºv6|. All of it, I might say, |6pay and perks
{f39, 414}
6| was handled over |6spondaneouslyº6| by me |v6myselfv6| in the name of Mr van Howten among my |6prodigits6| |v6neighbours nabobsv6| and |v6nephews naviousv6| of every |v6description subscriptionv6|, entitled our evicted tenants. What I say |v6is and is (andv6| I am no greenhorn, permit me to tell |v6you. you)v6| I never |6spent spont6| it. |6Nor have I the ghost of a nation up on me the way to.6| It went |v6anywayv6|. Therefore I am as plain as |v6possible portablev6| enveloped, inhowmuch you will shortly receive, care of one of Mooseyears Guinness's registered barrels.