2nd draft of §B, March 1926, §2B draft level 1

MS British Library 47482a 62-63 Draft details

{ms, 062}

I'm |1leaving forgetting1| my proxy behind for you, Dave the Dancer, a squamous man runaway |1my dear old pal of mine1|! Be sure and love him, my treasure, as often as you like |1only don't encourage him to cry over Leperstown1|. Here he is |1as if he fell |afrom out ofa| space1| |1all1| draped in mufti coming back from his continence with the pork's head in his hand, |1and the gulls laughing down on his natural skunk,1| blushing like a pig, begob! |1He's He's the sneaking likeness of myself too &1| every biter's bit as nasal a romeo as I am for ever cracking quips on himselfº that merry, the jeenjakes, he'd |1sooner bring soon arise1| mother's roses with bedewing tears |1into any onto anny living1| girl's laftercheeks. He's |1a1| jarry |1queer fish1| betimes but |1queer fish lice1| and all I'm enormously fond of that |1fellow foreigner1|, I'll say I am! |1We're as thick & thin as can possibly be.1| |1Isn't he after touching everyone he ever knew for a |ahalf aa| guinea |aeach a half of a crown & peacea|?1| Sure there's nobody else |1like to touch1| him at all with that potful of |1Spanish1| breens on him! A jollytan fine |1chap cemented brick1|! |1Dave knows I have the greatest respect for David Crozier. |aHe's the most important man!a| Give us your dyed hand here.1| Ho, by the holy, someone has shaved his skull for him as clean as Nuntius' piedish! Hold |1on hard1| till you hear him clicking his bull's bones. You're welcome back, Wilkins! |1I'm proud of you!1| This is my aunt Julia Bride. Turn around till we see a are you still full of poetryº
{ms, 063}

|1Taurus periculosus
morbus pediculosus
miserere mei
et miserabilibus

Did you mark that worried expression? My old fellow's uncle |1|aCaius Codinhanda| that was garotted1| |1could talk used to chop1| that tongue of his, japlatin, |1with |amy other uncle my younkle's owlsellera| |a|bWoodenhand Wolfe Woodenbeardb|a| in the Tower of Balbus1| as |1swift brisk1| as I'd |1lap peasoup scoff up lobscouse1|. But it's all deafman's duff to me, begob.