Joyce-Léon corrections 1939-1940 III.2§A
MS: Buffalo VI.H.4.a, pp. 429-461.32 Draft details
Jaunty Jaun, as I was shortly before that made aware, next halted to fetch a breath, the first cothurminous leg of his nightstride being pulled through, and to loosen (let God's son now be looking down on to the poor preambler!) both of his bruised brogues, that were plainly made a good bit before his hosen were, at the weir by Lazar's Walk (for far and wide, as large as he was
lively, was he noted for his humane treatment of any kind of abused footgear), a matter of maybe nine score or so barrelhours' distance off, as truly he merited to do. He was there, you could planimetrically see, when I took a closer look at him, that was to say, amply (gracious helpings, at this rate of growing our cotted child of yestereve will soon fill space and burst in systems, so
speeds the instant!) altered for the brighter though still the graven image of his squarer self as he was used to be, perspiring but happy notwithstanding his foot was still asleep on him, the way he thought, by the holy januarious, he had a bullock's hoof in his buskin, with his halluxes so splendid, through Ireland untranscended, bigmouthed poesther, propped up, restant, against a
butterblond warden of the peace, one comestabulish Sigurdsen (and where a better than such exsearfaceman to rest from roving the laddyown he bootblacked?), who, buried upright like the Osbornes, kozydozy, had tumbled slumbersomely on sleep at night duty behind the curing station, equilebriated amid the embracings of a monopolised bottle.
Now, there were as many as twentynine hedgedaughters out of Benent Saint Berched's national nightschool (for they seemed to remember how it was still a once-upon-a-four year) learning their antemeridian lesson of life, under its tree, against its warning, beseated as they were upon the brinkspondy, attracted to the rarerust sight of the first human yellowstone landmark (the bear, the
boer, the king of all boors, Sir Humphrey his knave we met on the moors!) while they paddled away, keeping time magnetically with their eight and fifty pedalettes, playing foolyfool jouay allo misto posto,
O so Jaonickally, all barely in their typtap teens, describing a charming dactylogram of nocturnes though repelled by the snores of the log who looked stuck to the sod as ever and oft, when liquefied (vil!), he murmoaned abasourdly in his Dutchener's native, visibly unmoved, over his treasure trove for the crown: Dotter dead bedstead mean diggy smuggy flasky!
Jaun (after he had in the first place doffed a hat with a reinforced crown and bowed to all the others in that chorus of praise of goodwill girls on their best beehiviour who all they were girls all rushing sowarmly for the post as buzzy as sie could bie to read his kisshands, kittering all about, rushing and making a tremendous girlsfuss over him pellmale, their jeune premier, and his
rosyposy smile, mussing his frizzy hair and the gollywog curls of him, all but that one, Findrina's fairest, done in loveletters like a trayful of cloudberry tartlets (ain't they fine, mighty, mighty fine and honoured?) and smilingly smelling, pair and pair about, broad by bread and slender to slimmer, the nice perfumios that came cunvy apeeling off him (nice!) which was angelic simply,
savouring of wild thyme and parsley jumbled with breadcrumbs (O nice!) asinging to his stamen and apetting of his pistil and feeling his full fat pouch for him so tactily and jingaling his jellybags, for though he looked a young chapplie of sixtine they could frole by his manhood that he was just the killingest ladykiller all by kindness, asking kindlily (hillo, missies!) after their howareyous at
all with those of their dollybegs, and where's Agatha's lamb? and how are Bernadetta's columbillas? and Julienna's tubberbunnies? and Eulalina's
tuggerfunnies?) next went on (finefeelingfit!) to drop a few stray remarks anent their personal appearances and the contrary tastes displayed in their tight kittycasques and their smart frickyfrockies, asking coy one after sloy one had she read Irish legginds and gently reproving one that the ham of her hom could be seen below her hem and whispering another aside|err,ºerr| as lavariant|err,ºerr| that the hook of her hum was open a bittock at her back, to have a side-eye to that, hom, and all of course just to fill up a form out of pure human kindness and in a sprite of fun, for Jaun, by the way, was by way of becoming (I think, I hope he was) the most purely human being that ever was called man, loving all up and down the whole creation from Sampson's tyke to Jones's sprat and from the king of all Wrenns down to infewseries.
Jaun, after those few prelimbs, made out through his eroscope the apparition of his fond sister Izzy, for he knowed his love by her waves of splabashing and she showed him proof by her way of blubushing, nor could he forget her so tarnelly easy as all that since he was brotherbesides her benedict godfather and heaven knows he thought the world and his life of her sweet heart could buy (brao!),
poor, good, true, Jaun|err.!ºerr|
— Sister dearest, Jaun delivered himself with express cordiality, marked by clearance of diction and general delivery, as he began to take leave of his scholastica at once so as to gain time with deep affection, we honestly believe you soeurly will miss us the moment we exit yet we feel as a martyr to the dischurch of all duty that it is about time, by Great Harry, we would
shove off to stray on our long last journey and not be the load on ye. This is the gross proceeds of your teachings in which we were raised, you, Sis, that used to write to us the exceeding nice letters for presentation and would be telling us anun (full well do we wont to recall to mind) thy oldworld tales of homespinning and derringdo and dieobscure and daddyho, those tales which reliterately
whisked oft our heart so narrated by thou, gesweest, to perfection, our pet pupil of the whole rhythmetic class and the mainsay of our erigenal house, the time we younkers twain were fairly tossing ourselves (O Phoebus! O Pollux!) in bed, having
been laid up with Castor's oil on the Parrish's syrup (the night we well remember) for to share our hard suite of affections with thee.
I rise, O fair assemblage! Andcommincio. Now then, after this introit of exordium, my galaxy girls, quiproquo of directions to henservants I was asking his advice on the strict T.T. from Father Mike, P.P., my orational dominican and confessor doctor C.C.D.D. (buy the birds, as he yerked me under the ribs he was saying sermon in an offrand way and confidences petween pees like ourselves
in so and so many nuncupiscent words about how he had just been confarreating teat-à-teat with two viragos intactas and what an awful life he led, poorish priced, uttering mass for a coppall of geldings and what a lawful day it was, there and then, for a consommation with an effusion and how, by all the manny larries ate pignatties, how, hell in tummies, he'd marry me flying any old
buckling time as quick as he'd look at me), and I am giving youth now again in words of style, byaway of offertory, his and mikeadvice, an it place the person, as, ere he retook him to his cure, those verbs he said to me. From above. The most eminent bishop titular of Dubloonik to all his purtybusses in Dellabelliney. Come all ye dimsel damsels, siddle down and lissle all! Follow me close!
Keep me in view! Understeady me saries! Which is to all practising massoeuses from a preaching freer and be a gentleman without a duster before a parlourmade without a spitch. Where the lisieuse are we and what's the first sing to be sung? Is it rubrics, mandarimus, pasqualines or verdidads is in it or the bruiselivid indecores of estreme voyoulence and, for the lover of lithurgy, bekant or
besant, where's the fate's to be wished for? Several sindays after whatsintime. I'll sack that sick server the minute I bless him. That's the mokst I can do for his grapce. Economy of movement,
axe why said. I've a hopesome's choice if I chouse of all the sinkts in the colander. From the common
for Ignitious Purpalume to the proper of Francisco Ultramare, last of scorchers, third of snows, in terrorgammons howdydos. Here she's is a belle, that's wares in heaven, virginwhite, Undetrigesima, vikissy manonna. Doremous!
Now. During our brief apsence from this furtive feugtig season adhere to as many as probable of the ten commandments touching purgations and indulgences and in the long run they will prove for your better guidance along your path of right of way. The same or similar to be kindly observed within the affianced dietcess of Gay O'Toole and Gloamy Gwenn du Lake (Danish spoken!) from Manducare Monday up till farrier's siesta in china dominos. Words taken in triumph, my sweet assistance, from the sufferant pen of our jocosus inkerman militant of the reed behind the ear.
Never miss your lostsomewhere mass for the couple in Myles you butrose to brideworship. Never hate mere pork which is bad for your knife of a good friday. Never let a hog of the howth trample underfoot your linen of Killiney. Never play lady's game for the Lord's stake. Never lose your heart away till you win his diamond back. Make a strong point of never kicking up your rumpus over
the scroll end of sofas in the Dar Bey Coll Cafeteria by tootling risky apropos songs at commercial travellers' smokers for their columbian nights entertainments the like of White limbs they never stop teasing or Minxy was a Manxmaid when Murry wore a Man. And, by the bun, is it you goes bisbuiting His Esaus and Cos and then throws them bag in the box? Why, the tin's
nearly empty. First, thou shalt not smile. Twice, thou shalt not love. Lust, thou shalt not commix idolatry. Hip confiners help compunction. Never park your brief stays in the men's convenience. Never clean your buttoncups with your dirty pair of sassers. Never ask his first person where's your quickest cut to our last place. Never let the promising hand usemake free of your oncemaid
sacral. The soft side of the axe! A coil of cord, a colleen coy, a blush on a bush turned first man's laughter into wailful moither. O foolish cuppled! Ah, dice's error! Never dip in the ern while you've browsers on your suite. Never slip the silver key through your gate of golden age. Collide with man, collude with money. Ere you sail foreget my prize. When you truss be
circumspicious and all ways look before you leak, dears. Never christen medlard apples till a swithin is in sight. Wet your thistle where a weed is and you'll rue it, despyneedies. Especially beware,
please, of being at a party to any demoralising home life. That saps a chap. Keep cool faith in the firm, have warm hoep in the house and begin frem athome to be chary of charity. Where it is nobler in the main to supper than the boys and errors of outrager's virtue. Give back those
stolen kisses; restaure those allcotten glooves. Recollect the yella perals that all too often beset green gerils, Rhidarhoda and Daradora, once they get hobbyhorsical, playing breeches parts for Bessy Sudlow in fleshcoloured pantos instead of earthing down in the coalhole trying to boil the big Gunne's dinner. Leg-before-Wicked lags-behind-Wall where here Mr Whicker whacked a great fall. Femorafamilla feeled it a candleliked but Hayes, Conyngham and Erobinson sware it's an egg. Forglim mick aye! Stay, forestand and tillgive it! Remember the biter's bitters I shed the vigil I buried our Harlotte Quai from poor Mrs Mangain's of Britain Court on the feast of Marie Maudlin. Ah, who would wipe her weeper dry and lead her to the haltar? Sold in her heyday, laid in the straw, bought for one puny petunia. Moral: if you can't point a lily get to henna out of here! Put your swell foot foremost on foulardy pneumonia shertwaists, irriconcilible with true fiminin risirvition, and ribbons of lace, limenick's disgrace. Sure, what is it on the whole only holes tied together and the merest transparent washingtones to make Languid Lola's lingery longer? Scenta Clauthes stiffstuffs your hose and heartsies full of temptiness. Vanity flee and Verity fear! Diobell! Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you (thwackaway thwuck!) but never lay bare your breast secret (dickette's place!) to joy a Jonas in the Dolphin's Barncar with your meetual fan, Doveyed Covetfilles, comepulsing paynattention spasms between the averthisment for Ulikah's wine and a pair of pulldoons of the old cupiosity shape. There you'll fix your eyes darkled on the autocart of the bringfast cable but here till you're martimorphysed please sit still face to face. For if the shorth of your skorth falls down to his knees pray how wrong will he look till he rises? Not before Gravesend is commuted. But now reappears Autist Algy, the pulcherman and would-do performer, oleas Mr Smuth, stated by the vice crusaders to be well
known to all the dallytaunties in and near the ciudad of Buellas Arias, taking you to the playguehouse to see the Smirchings of Venus, introducing you, left to right the party comprises, to hogarths and asking with whispered offers in a very low bearded voice, with a nice little tiny manner and in a very nice little tony way, won't you be an artist's moral and pose in your nudies as a local esthetic before voluble old masters like Bottisilly and Titteretto and Vergognese and Coraggio, with their extrahand Mazzaccio, plus the usual bilker's dozen of dowdycameramen. And the volses of lewd Buylan, for innocence! And the phyllisophies of Bussup Bulkeley. O, the frecklessness of the giddies nouveau tays! There's many's the icepolled globetapper is haunted by the hottest spot under his equator like Ramrod, the meaty hunter, always jaeger for a thrust. The back beautiful, the undraped divine! And Suzy's Moedl's with their Blue Danuboyes! All blah! Viper's
vapid vilest! Put off the old man at the very font and get right on with the nutty sparker round the back. Slip your oval out of touch and let the paravis be your goal. Up leather, Prunella, convert your try! Stick wicks in your earshells when you hear the prompter's voice. Look on a boa in his beauty and you'll nevermore wear your strawberry leaves. Rely on the relic. What bondman ever you bind on earth I'll be bound 'twas combined in hemel. Keep airly hores and the worm is yores. Dress the pussy for her nighty and follow her piggytails up their way to Winkyland. See little poupeep, she's firsht ashleep. After having sat your poetries and you know what happens when chine throws over jupan. Go to doss with the poulterer, you understand, and shake up with the milchmand. The Sully van vultures are on the prowl. And the hailies fingring maries. Tobacco's tabu and toboggan's a backseat. Secret satieties and onanymous letters make the great unwatched as bad as their betters. Don't on any account acquire a paunchon for that alltoocommon fagbutt habit of frequenting and chumming together with the braces of couples in Mr Tunnelly's hallways (smash it), wriggling with lowcusses and cockchafers and vamps and rodants, in the end to commit acts of
interstipital indecency as between twineties and tapegarters, fingerpats on fondlepets, under the couvrefeu act. It's the thin end, wedge your steps|err.!ºerr| Your highpowered hefty hoyden thinks nothing of vamping through a whole suite of smokeless husbands. Three minutes, I'm counting you! Woooooon! No triching now! Give me that when I tell you! Ragazza ladra! And is that any place to be smuggling his madam's apples up? Deceitful jade. Gee wedge! Begor, I like the way they're half cooked. Hold, flay, grill, fire that laney feeling for kosenkissing dysgenically within the proscribed limits like Population Peg on a hint or twin clandestinely does be doing to Temptation Tom. Atkings questions in barely and snakking svarewords like a nursemagd. While there's |errmen-o'-war men-a'-warºerr| on the say there'll be loves-o'-women on the do. Love through the usual channels, cisternbrothelly, when properly disinfected and taken neat in the generable way upon retiring to roost in the company of a husband-in-law or other respectable relative of an apposite sex, not love that leads by the nose as I foresmellt but canalised love, you understand, does a felon good, suspiciously if he has a slugger's liver. But I cannot belabour the point too ardently (and after the lessions of experience I speak from inspiration) that fetid spirits is the thief of prurities, so none of your twenty rod cherrywhisks, me daughter, at the Cat and Coney or the Spotted Dog. When the night's in May and the moon shines might. And at 2 bis Lot's Road. When parties get tight for each other they lose all respect together. By the stench of her fizzle and the glib of her gab know the drunken draggletail Dublin drab. You'll pay for each bally sorraday
night every billing sumday morning. We won't meeth in Navan till you try to give the Kellsfireclub the goby. Hill or hollow, Hull or Hague! And beware how you dare of wet cocktails in Kildare or the same may see your wedding driving home from your wake. Mades of ashens when you flirt spoil the lad but spare his shirt|err.!ºerr| Lay your lilylike long his shoulder but buck back if he butts bolder and just hep your homely hop and heed no horning. But if you've got some brainy notion to raise cancan and rouse commotion I'll be apt to flail that tail for you till it's
borning. Let the lore you ladleliked at the lyc girde your gastricks in the gym. Nor must you omit to screw the lid firmly on that jazz jiggery, kick starts, bumping races on the flat and point to coint over obstacles. Ridewheeling that acclivisciously up windy Rutland Rise and insighting rebellious northers in the saunter of the city of Dunlob. Then breretonbiking on the free with your airs of go-be-dee and your heels upon the handlebars. Berrboell brazenness! No, before your corselage rib is decartilaged, that is to mean, if you have visceral ptosis, my point is, making allowances for the facts of your weak abdominal wall and your liver asprawl, vinvin, vinvin, or should you feel, in shorts, as though you needed healthy physicking exorcise to flush your kidneys, you understand, and move that twelfinger bowel and threadworm inhibitating it, lassy, and perspire freely, why, lict your lector in the lobby and out you go by the ostiary on to the dirt track and skip|err.!ºerr| Be a sportive. Deal with Nature, the great greengrocer, and pay regular by the monthlies. Your Punt's Perfume's only in the hatpinny shop beside the reek of the rawney. It's more important than air — I mean than eats — air (oop, I never open momouth but I pack mefood in it) and promotes that natural emotion. Stamp out bad eggs. Why so many puddings prove disappointing, as Dietician says in Creature Comforts Causeries, and why so much soup is so muck slop. If we could fatten on the elizabeetons we wouldn't have teeth like the hippopotamians. However. Likewise if I were in your unvelope shirt I'd keep my weathereye well cocked open for your furnished lodgers paying for their feed on tally with company and piano tunes. Only stuprifying yourself! The too friendly friend sort, Mazourikawitch or some other sukinsin of a vitch, who he's kommen from olt Pannonia on this porpoise whom sue stooderin about the maul and femurl artickles and who mix himself so at home mid the musik and spanks the ivory so lovely, Mistro Melosiosus MacShine MacShane, may soon prove your undoing and bane through the succeeding years of rain should you, whilst Jaun is from home, get used to basking in his loverslowlap, inordinately clad, moustacheteasing,
when closeheaded together behind locked doors, kissing steadily (malbongusta, it's not the thing, you |errknow know!err|) with the calfloving selfseeker,
under the influence of woman, inching up to you, disarranging your modesties and fumbling with his forte paws in your bodice after your billydoos twy as a first go-off (take care, would you stray and split on me!) and going on doing his idiot every time you gave him his chance to get thick and play pigglywiggly, making much of you, bilgetalking like a ditherer, gougouzoug, about your glad neck and the round globe and the white milk and the red raspberries (O horrifier!) and prying down furthermore to chance his lucky arm with his pregnant questions up to our past lives. What has that caught to sing with him? The next fling you'll be squitting on the Tubber Nakel, pouring pitchers to the well for old Gloatsdane's glorification and the postequities of the Black Watch, peeping private from the Bush and Rangers. And our local busybody, talker-go-bragk? Worse again! Off of that praying fan on to them priars! It would be a whorable state of affairs altogether for the red columnists of presswritten epics, Peter Paragraph and Paulus Puff (I'm keepsoaking them to cover my concerts), to get ahold of for their balloons and shoot you private by surprise, considering the marriage slump that's on this oil age and pulexes three shillings a pint and wives at six and seven when domestic calamities belame par and newlaids bellow mar for the twenty two toosent time thwealthy took thousands in the slack march of civilisation, were you, becoming guilty of unleckylike intoxication, to have and to hold, to pig and to pay, direct connection|err,err| qua intervener|err,ºerr| with a prominent married member of the vicereeking squad and|err,ºerr| in consequence of the hereinunder subpenas|err,ºerr| be flummoxed to the second degree by becoming a detestificated companykeeper on the dammymonde of Lucalamplight. Anything but that, for the fear and love of gold! Once and for all, I'll have no college swankies (you see I am well voiced in love's arsenal and all its overtures from collion boys to colleen bawns, so I have every reason to know that rogues' gallery of nightbirds and bitchfanciers, lucky duffs and light lindsays, haughty hamiltons and gay gordons, dosed, doctored
and otherwise, messing around skirts and what their fickling intentions look like, you make up your mind to that) trespassing on your danger zone in the dancer years. If ever I catch you at it, mind, it's you that will cocottch it! I'll tackle you to feel if you have a few devils in you. Holy gun, I'll give it to you, hot, high and heavy, before you can say sedro! Or may the maledictions of Lousyfear fall like nettlerash on the white friar's father that converted from moonshine the fostermother of the first nancyfree that ran off after the trumpadour that mangled Moore's melodies and so upturned the tubshead of the stardaft journalwriter to inspire the prime finisher to fellhim the firtree out of which Cooper Funnymore planed the flat of the beerbarrel on which my grandydad's lustiest sat his
seat of unwisdom with my tante's petted sister for the cause of his joy! Amine.
Poof! There's puff for ye, begorra, and planxty of it, all abound me breadth! Glor galore and glory be! As broad as its lung and as long as a line! The valiantine vaux of Venerable Val Vousdem. If my jaws must brass away like the due drops on my lay. And the topnoted delivery you'd expected be me invoice! Theo Dunnohoo's warning from Daddy O'Dowd. Whoo? What I'm
wondering to myselfwhose for there's a strong tendency|err,ºerr| to put it
mildly|err,ºerr| by making me the medium. I feel spirts of itchery outching out from all over me and only for the sludgehummer's force in my hand to hold them the darkens alone knows what'll who'll be saying of next.
However. Now, before my upperotic rogister, something nice. Now? Dear sister, in perfect leave again I say take a brokerly advice and keep it to yourself that we, Jaun, first of our name, here now make all receptacles of, free of price. Easy, my dear, if they tingle you either say nothing or nod. No cheekacheek with chipperchapper, you and your last mashboy and the padre in the pulpbox enumerating
you his nostrums. Be vacillant over those vigilant who would leave you to belave black on white. Close in for psychical hijinks as well but fight shy of mugpunters. I'd burn the books that grieve you and light an allassundrian bompyre that would suffragate Tome Plyfire or Zolfanerole. Perousse instate your Weakly Standerd, our verile organ that is ethelred by all
pressdom. Apply your five wits to the four verilatest. The Arsdiken's An Traitey on Miracula or Viewed to Death by a Priest Hunter is still first in the field despite the castle bar. William Archer's a rompan good cathalogue and he'll give you a riser on the route to our nazional labroury. Skim over Through Hell with the Papes (mostly boys) by the divine comic Denti Alligator (exsponging your index) and find a quip in a quire arisus aream from bastardtitle to fatherjohnson. Swear aloud by pious fiction the like of Lentil Lore by Carnival Cullen or that Percy Wynns of our S. J. Finn's or Pease in Plenty by the Curer of Wars, the two best sells on the market this luckiest year, set up by Gill the father, put out by Gill the son and circulating disimally at Gillydehooly's cost, licensed and censered by our most picturesque prelates, Their Graces of Linzen and Petitbois, bishops of the Hibernites, licet ut lebanus, for expansion on the promises. Strike up a nodding acquaintance for our doctrine with the works of old Mrs Trot, senior, and Manoel Canter, junior, and Loper de Figas, nates maximum. I used to follow Mary Liddlelambe's flitsy tales, espicially with the scentaminted sauce. Sifted science will do your arts good. Egg Laid by Former Cock and With Flageolettes in Send Fanciesland. Chiefly girls. Trip over sacramental tea into the long lives of our saints and saucerdotes, with vignettes, cut short
into instructual primers by those in authority for the bittermint of your soughts. Forget not the palsied. Light a match for poor old Contrabally and send some balmoil for the schizmatics. A hemd in need is aye a friendly deed. Remember, maid, thou must art powder but Cinderella thou dust return. (What are you rubbing her sleeve for, Ruby? And pull in your tongue, Polly!) Cog that out of your teen times, everyone! The lad who brooks no breaches lifts the lass that toffs a tailor. How dare ye be laughing out of your mouthshine at the lack of that? Keep cool your fresh chastity which is far, far better, far. Sooner than part with that vestalite emerald of the first importance, descended to me by far from our family, which you treasure up so closely in the sanctuary where your nether extremes meet, nay, morzed lesmended, rather let the whole ekumene universe belong to merry Hal and do whatever his Mary well
likes. When the gong goes for hornets-to-nest marriage step into your harness and strip off that nullity suit. Faminy, hold back! For the race is to the rashest of, the romping, jomping rushes of. Haul Seton's down, black, green and grey, and hoist Mikealy's whey and sawdust. What's overdressed if underclothed? Poposht forstake me knot where there's white lets ope. Whisht! Blesht she that walked with good Jook Humprey for he made her happytight. Go! You can down all the dripping you can dumple to, and buffkid scouse too ad libidinum, in these lassitudes if you've parents and things to look after. That was what stuck to the Comtesse Cantilene while she was sticking out Mavis Toffeelips to feed her soprannated huspals and it is henceforth associated with her names. La Dreeping! Die Droopink! The inimitable in puresuet of the inevitable! There's nothing to touch it, we are taucht, unless she'd care for a mouthpull of white pudding, for the wish is on her rose marine and the lunchlight in her eye. So when you pet the rollingpin write my name on the pie. Guard that gem, Sissy, rich and rare, ses he. In this cold old worold who'll feel it? Hum! The jewel you're all so cracked about there's flitty few of them gets it, for there's nothing now but the sable stoles and a runabout to& match it. Sing him a ring. Touch me low. And I'll lech ye so, my soandso. Show and show. Show on show. She. Shoe. Shone.
Divulge, sjuddenly jouted out hardworking Jaun, kicking the console to his double and braying aloud like Brahaam's ass and, as his voixe humaner swelled to great, clenching his manlies, so highly strong was he, man, and gradually quite warming to her (there must have been a power of kinantics in that buel of gruel he gobed at bedgo), divorce unto me and say the curname in undress (if you
get into trouble with a party you are not likely to forget his appearance either) of any lapwhelp or sleevemongrel who talks to you upon the road where he tuck you to be a roller, O, and (the goattanned
saxopeeler upshotdown chigs peek of him!) volunteers to trifle with your roundlings for profferred glass and dough, the marrying hand that his leisure repents of, without taking out his proper password
from the eligible ministriss for affairs with the black fremdling, that enemay of our country, in a cleanlooking light and (I don't care a tongser's tammany hang who the mucky is nor twoo hoots in the corner nor three shouts on a hill, were he even a constantineapolitan namesuch of my very own, Alltaboy Knowling, and like enoch to my townmajor ancestors, the two that are taking out their divorces in the Spooksbury courts circuits, Rere Uncle Remus, the Baas of Eboracum, and Old Father Ulissabon Knickerbocker, the lanky Sire of Wolverhampton, about their bristelings) as true as there's a soke for sakes in Twoways Petersborough and sure as home we come to newsky prospeckt from west the wave on schedule time (if I came any quicker I'll be right back before I left) from the land of breach of promise, with Brendan's mantle whitening the Kerribrasilian sea and March's pebbles spinning from beneath our footslips, to carry fire and sword, rest insured that as we value the very name Insister that as soon as we do possibly it will be a poor lookout for that insister. He's a markt man from that hour. And why do we say that, you may query me? Quary? Guess! Call'st thou? Think and think and think, I urge on you. Muffed! The wrong porridge! You are an ignoratis! Because then probably we'll dumb well soon show him what the Shaun way is like how we'll go a long way towards breaking his outsider's face for him for making up to you with his bringthee balm of Gaylad and his singthee songs of Arupee and chancerying my ward's head into sanctuary before feeling with his two dimensions for your nuptial dito. Ohibow, if I was Blonderboss I'd gooandfrighthisdualman! Now, we'll tell you what we'll do to be sicker instead of compensation. We'll he'll burst our his mouth like Leary to the Leinsterface and reduce he'll we'll ournhisn liniments to a poolp. Open the door softly, somebody wants you, dear|err.!ºerr| You'll hear him calling you, bump, like a blizz, in the muezzin of the turkest night. Come on now, pillarbox! I'll stiffen your scribeall, broken reed! That'll be it, grand operoar style, even should I, with my sleuts of hogpew and cheekas, have to coomb the brash of the libs round Close Saint Patrice to lay my louseboob on his
behaitch like Toss. We are all eyes. I have his quoram of images all on my retinue, Mohomadhawn Mike. Brass up! Moreover, after that|err,ºerr| bad manners to me if I don't think strongly about giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first police bubby cunstabless of Dora's Diehards in the field I might chance to follopon. Or, for that matter, for your information, if I get the wind up what do you bet in the buckets of my wrath I mightn't even take it into my progromme, as sweet course, to do a rash act and pitch
in and swing for your perfect stranger in the meadow of heppiness and then wipe the street up with the clonmellian, pending my bringing proceedings verses the joyboy before a bunch of magistrafes and twelve good and gleeful men? Take warning! Filius nullius per fas et nefas. It should prove more or less of an event and show the widest federal in my cap. He'll have pansements then for his pensamientos, howling for peace. Pretty knocks, I promise him, with plenty burkes for his shins. Dumnlimn wimn humn. In which case I'll not be complete in fighting lust until I contrive to half kill your Charley you're my darling for you and send him to Home Surgeon Hume, the algebrist, before his appointed time, particularly should he turn out to be a man in brown about town, Rollo the Gunger, wants a flurewaltzer to Arnolff's, picking up ideas, of well over or about fiftysix or so, pithecoid proportions, with perhops five foot eight, the usual X Y Z type, R.C., Toc H, nothing but claret, not in the studbook by a long stretch, with a toothbrush moustache and jaw crockeries, alias grinner through collar, and of course no beard, meat and colmans suit, with tar's baggy slacks obviously too roomy for him and springside boots, washing tie, Father Mathew's bridge pin, sipping some Wheatley's at Rhoss's on a barstool with some pubpal of the Olaf Stout kidney, always trying to poorchase movables by |errhebomedaries hebdomedarieserr| for to putt in a new house to loot, cigarette in his holder, with a good job and pension in Buinness's, what about our trip to Normandy style of conversation, with an occasional they say that filmacoulored featured at the Mothrapurl skrene about Michan and his lost angeleens is corkyshows do moorvaloos, blueygreen eyes a bit scummy, developing a series of
angry boils with certain references to the Deity, seeking relief in alcohol and so on, general omnibus character with a dash of railway brain, stale cough and an occasional twinge of claudication, having his favourite fecundclass family of upwards of a decade, both harefoot and loadenbrogued, to boot and buy off, Imean.
So let it be a knuckle or an elbow, I hereby admonish you|err.!ºerr| It may all be topping fun but it's tip and run and touch and flow for every whack when Marie
stopes Phil fluther's game to go. Arms arome, side aside, face into the wall. To the tumble of the toss tot the trouble of the swaddled, O. And lest there be no misconception, Miss Forstowelsy, over who to fasten the plightforlifer on (threehundred and thirty three to one on Rue the Day!) when the nice little smellar squalls in his crydle what the dirty old bigger'll be squealing through
his coughin, you better keep in the gunbarrel straight around vokseburst as I recommence you to (you gypseyeyed baggage, do you hear what I'm praying?) or, Gash, without butthering my head to assortail whose stroke forced or which struck backly, I'll be all over you myselx
horizontally, as the straphanger said, for knocking me with my name and yourself and your babybag down at such a great sacrifice with a rap of the gavel to a third price cowhandler as cheap as the niggerd's dirt (for sale!) or I'll smack your fruitflavoured jujube lips well for you|err,err| so I will well for you|err,ºerr| if you don't keep a civil tongue in your pigeonhouse. The pleasures of love lasts but a fleeting but the pledges of life outlusts a lieftime. I'll have it in for you. I'll teach you bed minners, tip for tap, not to be playing your oddaugghter tangotricks with micky dazzlers, if I find corsehairs on your riverfrock and the squirmside of your burberry lupitally covered with chiffchaff and shavings. Up Rosemiry Lean and Potanasty Rod you wos, wos you? I overstand you, you understand. Asking Annybettyelsas to carry your parcels and you dreaming of net glory. You'll ging nae maer wi' Wolf the Ganger! Cutting chapel, were you? And had dates with slickers in particular hotels, had we? Lonely went to play your mother, isod? You was wiffriends? Hay, dot's a doll yarn! Mark mean then! I'll homeseek you, Luperca, as sure as there's a palatine in Limerick, and, in
striped conference, here's how, if you're my rodeo gell. Nerbu de Bios! If yous twos goes to walk upon the railway, Gard, and I'll goad to beat behind the bush|err.!ºerr| See to it! Snip! It's up to you. I'll be hatsnatching harrier to hiding huries hinder hedge. Snap! I'll tear up your limpshades and lock all your trotters in a closet, I will, and cut your silkskin into garters. You'll give up your ashandbrothel ways when I make you reely smart. So skelp your budd and kiss the hurt! I'll have plenary sadisfaction, plays the bishop, for your partial's indulgences. Fair man and foul suggestion. There's a lot of lecit pleasure coming bangslanging your way, Miss Pimpernelly Satin. For your own good, you understand, for the man who lifts his pud to a woman is saving the way for kindness. You'll rebmemer your mottob, Aveh Tiger Roma, mikely smarter the nickst time. For I'll just draw my prancer and give you one splitpuck in the crupper, you understand, that will bring the poppy blush of shame to your peony hindmost till you yelp papapardon and radden your rhodatantarums to the beat of calorrubordolor, I am, I do and I suffer (do you hear me now, lickspoon, and stop looking at your bussycat bow in the slate!), that you won't obliterate for the bulkier part of a running year, failing to give a good account of yourself, if you think I'm so tan cupid as all that. Lights out now (bouf!), tight and sleep on it! And that's how I'll bottle your greedypuss beautibus for ye, me bullin heifer, for 'tis I that have the peer of arrams that carry a wallop. Between them.
Unbeknownst to you would ire turn o'er see, a nuncio would I return here. How (from the sublime to the ridiculous) times out of oft, my future, shall we think with deepest of love and recollection by introspection of thee
but me far away on the pillow, breathing fondly o'er my names all through the empties, whilst moidhered by the rattle of the doppeldoorknockers. Our homerole poet to Ostelinda, Fred Wetherly, puts it somewhys better. You're sitting on me style, maybe, whereoft I helped yous ore. Littlegame rumilie from Liffaslidebankum (Toobliqueme!) but a big corner fill you do in this unadulterated seat of our affections. Aerwenger's my breed so may we uncreepingly
multipede like the sands on Amberham! Sevenheavens, O heaven! Iy waount yiou! Yore ways to melittleme were wonderful so Ick am purseproud in sending yum loveliest pansiful thoughts touching me dash in-you through wee dots Hyphen, the so pretty arched godkin of beddingnights. If I've proved to your sallysfashion how I'm a man of Armor let me so, let me sue, let me see your isabellis. How I shall, should I survive, as, please the uniter of U.M.I. hearts, I am living in hopes to do, replacing mig wandering handsup in yawers, so yeager for mitch, positively cover the two pure chicks of your comely plumpchake with zuccherikissings, hong, kong, and so gong, that I'd scare the bats out of the ivfry one of those muggy mornings, honestly, by my rantandog and daddyoak, I will, become come coming when, upon the mingling of our meeting waters, wish to wisher, like massive mountains to part no more, you will there and then, in those happy moments of ouryour soft accord, rainkiss on me back, for full marks with shouldered arms, and in that united I.R.U. state when I come (touf! touf!) wildflier's fox into my own green geese again, swap sweetened smugs, six of one for half a dozen of the other, till they'll bet we're the cuckoo derby when cherries next come back to Ealing as come they must, as they musted in their past, as they must for my pressing season, as hereinafter must they chirrywill immediately suant on my safe return to ignorance and bliss in my horseless Coppal Poor, through suirland and noreland, kings country and queens, with my ropes of pearls for gamey girls the way ye'll hardly. Knowme.
Slim ye, come slum with me and rally rats' roundup|err.!ºerr| 'Tis post purification we will, sales of work and social service, missus, completing our Abelite
union by the adoptation of fosterlings. Embark for Euphonia! Up Murphy, Henson and O'Dwyer, the Warchester Warders! I'll put in a shirt time if you'll get through your shift and betwine us in our shared slaves, brace to brassiere and shouter to shunter, we'll pull off our working programme. Come into the garden guild and be free of the gape
athome|err.!ºerr| We'll circumcivicise all Dublin country. Let us, the real Us, all ignite in our prepurgatory grade as aposcals
and be instrumental to utensilise our Jakeline sisters clean out the hogshole and generally ginger things up. Meliorism in massquantities, raffling receipts and sharing sweepstakes till navel, spokes
and felloes hum like hymn. Burn only what's Irish, accepting their coals. You will soothe the cokeblack bile that's Anglia's and touch Armourican's iron core. Write me your essayest, my vocational scholars, but cursorily, dipping your nose in it, for Henrietta's sake|err,ºerr| on mortinatality or the life of jewries and the sludge of King's at its height, running boulewards over the whole of it. I'd write it all by mownself if I only had here of my jolly young watermen. Bear in mind, by Michael, all the provincials' bananas and elacock eggs making drawadust jubilee along Henry, Moore, Earl and Talbot Streets. Luke at all the memmer manning he's dung for the prey of birds, our priest-mayor-king-merchant, strewing the Castleknock Road and drawing manure upon it till the first glimpse of Wales and from Ballses Breach Harshoe up to Dumping's Corner with the Mirist fathers' brothers versus White Friars elevens out on a rogation stag party. Compare them caponchin trowlers otiosely with the Bridges of Belches in Fairview, noreast Dublin's favourite souwest wateringplatz, and ump as you lump it. What do you mean by Jno Citizen and how do you think of Jas Pagan? Compost liffe in Dufblin by Pierce Egan with the baugh in Baughkley of Fino Ralli. Explain why there is such a number of orders of religion in Asea! Why such an order number in preference to any other number? Why any number in any order at all? Now? Where is the greenest island off the black coats of Spaign? Overset into universal: I am perdrix and upon my pet ridge. Oralmus! Way, O way for the autointaxication of our town of the Fords in a huddle! Hailfellow some wellmet boneshaker or, to ascertain the facts for herself, run up your showeryweather once and trust and take the Drumgondola tram and, wearing the midlimb and vestee endorsed by the hierarchy fitted with ecclastics, bending your steps, pick a trail and stand on, say, Aston's, at, suppose, the hoyth of number eleven, let us say, Kane or Keogh's, along quayth a copy of the Seeds and Weeds Act, when you have procured one for yourself,
and I advise you strongly to take a good longing gaze into any nearby shopswindow you may select and in the course of about thirtytwo minutes' time proceed to turn aroundabout on your heehills towards the previous causeway and I shall be very cruelly mistaken indeed if you will not be jushed astonushed to see how you will be meanwhile durn well topcoated with kakes of slush occasioned by the mush jam of the cross and blockwalls traffic in transit. See Capels and then fly. Show me that complaint book here. Where's Cowtends Kateclean, the woman with the muckrake? When will the W.D. face of our sow muckloved D'lin, the Troia of towns and Carmen of cities, crawling with mendiants in perforated clothing, get its wellbelavered whitewish like L'pool and M'chester? When's that grandnational goldcapped dupsydurby houspill coming with its vomitories
for our mothers-in-load and stretchers for their devitalised males? I am all of me for freedom of speed but who'll disasperaguss Pope's Avegnue or who'll uproose the Opian Way? Who'll brighton Brayhowth and bait the Bull Bailey and never despair of Lorcansby? The rampant royal commissioners! 'Tis an ill weed blows no poppy good. And this labour's worthy of my higher. Oil for meed and toil for feed and a walk with the band for Job Loos. If I hope not charity what profiteers me? Nothing! My tippers of flags are knobs of hardshape for it isagrim tale, keeping the father of curls from the sport of oak. Do you know what, liddle giddles? One of those days I am advised by the smiling voteseeker who is now snoring elected to positively strike off hiking for good and all, as I bldy well bdly ought, until such temse loiter on as some mood is made under privy-sealed orders to get me an increase of automoboil and footwear for these poor discalced and a bourse from Bon Somewind for a cure at Bad Anyweir (though where it's going to come from this time …) as I sartunly think now, honest to John, for an income plexus that that's about the sanguine boundary limit. Amean.
Sis dearest, Jaun added with voise somewhit murky, what though still high fa luting, as he turned his dorse to her to pay court to it and ouverleaved his booseys to give the note and
score, phonoscopically incuriosited and melancholic this time, whiles, as on the fulmament he gaped in wulderment, his onsaturncast eyes in stellar attraction followed swift to an imaginary swellaw, O, the vanity of Vanissy! All ends vanishing! Pursonally, Grog help me, I am in no violent hurry. If time enough lost the ducks, walking easy found them. I'll nose a blue fonx with any tristys blinking upon this earthlight of all them that pass by the way of the deerdrive, conconey's run or wilfrid's walk, but I'd turn back as lief as not if I could only spoonfind the nippy girl of my heart's appointment, Mona Vera Toutou Ipostila, my lady of Lyons, to guide me by gastronomy under her safe conduct. That's more in my line. I'd ask no kinder of fates than to stay where I am, with my tinny of brownie's tea, under the invocation of Saint Jamas Hanway, servant of Gamp, lapidated, and Jacobus A'Pershawm, intercissous, for my thurifex, with Peter Roche, that frind of my boozum, leaning on my cubits, at this passing moment by localoption in the birds' lodging|err,ºerr| me pheasants among, where I'll dreamt that I'll dwealth mid warblers' walls when throstles and choughs to my sigh hiehied, with me hares standing up well and me longlugs dittoes, where a maurdering row (the fox!) has broken at the coward sight, till well on into the beausome of the exhaling night, pinching stopandgo jewels out of the hedges and catching dimtop brilliants on the tip of my wagger, but for that owled clock (fast cease to it!) has just gone twoohoo the hour and yen breezes zipping
round by Drumsally do be devils to play fleurt. I could sit on safe side till the bark of Saint Grouse's for hoopoe's hours, till heoll's hoerrisings, laughing lazy at the sheep's lightning, and turn a widamost ear dreamily to the drummling of snipers, hearing the wireless harps of sweet old Aerial and the mails across the nightriver (peepet! peepet!) and whippoorwilly in the woody (moor park! moor park!), as peacefed as a philopotamus, and crekking jugs at the grenoulls, leaving tealeaves for the trout and belleeks for the wary, till I'd followed through my upfielded neviewscope the rugaby moon cumuliously goarolling himself westasleep amuckst the cloudscrums for to watch how carefully my nocturnal goosemother
would lay her new golden sheegg for me down under in the shy orient. What wouldn't I poach — the rent in my riverside, my otther shoes, my beavery, honest! — ay, and melt my belt, for a dace feast of grannom with the finny ones, those happy guppies in their minnowahaw, flashing down the swansway, leaps ahead of the Swift MacEels, the big Gillaroo redfellows and the pursewinded carpers, rearin antis rood perches astench of me, or, when I'd like own company best, with the help of a norange and bear, to be reclined on my logansome by the lasher, my g.b.d in my f.a.c.e, solfanelly in my shellyholders and lov'd Latakia, the benuvolent, for my nosethrills, with the jealosomines wilting away to their heart's deelight and the king of saptimber letting down his humely odours for my consternation, dapping my griffeen, burning water in the spearlight or catching trophies of the king's royal college of sturgeons by the armful for to bake pike and pie while, O twined me abower in L'Alouette's Tower, all Adelaide's naughtingerls juckjucking benight me, I'd gamut my twittynice Dorian blackbudds the chthonic solphia off my singasongapiccolo to pipe musicall airs on numberous fairyaciodes. I give, a king, to me, she does, alone, up there, yes see, I double give, till the spinney all eclosed asong with them. Isn't that lovely though? I give to me alone I trouble give! I may have no mind tamagnage the forte bits like the pianage but you can't cadge me off the key. I've a voicical lilt too true. Nomario! And bemolley and jiesis! For I sport a whatyoumacormack in the latcher part of my throushers. And the lark that I let fly (olala!) is as cockful of funantics as it's tune to my fork. Naturale you might lower register me as diskrecordant, but I'm athlone in the lillabilling of killarnies. That's flat. Yet ware the wold, you! What's good for the gorse is a goad for the garden. Lethals lurk hemlocked in logans. Loathe laburnums. Dash the gaudy deathcup|err.!ºerr| Bryony O'Bryony, thy name is Belladama! But enough of greenwood gossip. Birdsnests is birdsnests. Thine to wait but mine to wage. And now play sharp to me. Doublefirst I'll head foremost through all my exam hoops. And what sensitive coin I'd be possessed
of at Latouche's, begor, I'd sink it sumtotal, every
dolly farting, in vestments of subdominal poteen at prime cost and I bait you my chancey oldcoat against the whole ounce you half on your backboard (if madamaud strips mesdamines may cold strafe illglands!) that I'm the gogetter that'd make it pay like cash registers as sure as there's a pot on a pole. And, what with one man's fisch and a dozen men's poissons, sowing my wild plums to reap ripe plentihorns mead, lashings of erboule and hydromel and bragget, I'd come out with my magic fluke in close time, fair, free and frolicky, zooming tophole on the mart as a factor. And I tell you the Bectives wouldn't hold me. By the unsleeping Solman Annadromous, ye god of little pescies, nothing would stop me. Not the Ulster Rifles and the Cork Milice and the Dublin Fusees and Connacht Rangers ensembled! For money makes multimony like the brogues and the kishes. I'd axe the channon and leip a liffey and drink annyblack water that rann on me way. Yip! How's that for scats, mine shatz, for a lovebird? To funk is only peternatural, it's daring feers divine. Bebold! Like Varian's, balaying all behind me. And, zoom, before you knew where you weren't, I stake my ignitial's divy, cash-and-cash-can-again, I'd be staggering humanity and loyally rolling you over, my sow white spouse, in tons of red clover, nighty nigh to the metronome, fiehigh and fiehigher and fiehighest of all! Holy petter and pal, I'd spoil you altogether, my sumptuous Sheila! Mumm all to do but frull up fizz and unpop a few shortrusians or shake a pail of sparkling ice. Hear it swirl, happy girl|err.!ºerr| Not a spot of my hide but you'd love to seek and scan again! There'd be no standing me, I tell you. And, as gameboy as my pagan name K.C. is what it is, I'd never say let fly till we shot that blissup and swumped each other, manawife, into our sever nevers where I'd plant you, my Gizzygay, on the electric ottoman in the lap of lechery, simpringly stitchless with admiracion|err,ºerr| among the most uxuriously furnished compartments with sybarate chambers|err,ºerr| just as I'd run my shoestring into near a million or so of them as a firstclass dealer and everything. Only for one thing, that howover famiksed I would become I'd be awful anxious, you understand, about Shoepisser Pluvius and in assideration of the terrible
luftsucks woabling around with the hedrolics in the coold amstophere till the bording that would perish the Dane and his chapter of accidents to be atramental to the better half of my alltoolyrical health, not considering my capsflap, and that's the truth now out of the cackling bag, for truly sure for another thing I never could tell the leest falsehood that would truthfully give sotisfiction. I'm not talking apple sauce eithou. Or up in my hat. I earnst. Fschue!
Sissibis dearest, as I was reading to myself not very long ago in Tennis Flonnels MacCourther, his correspondence, besated upon my tripos, and
just thinking like thauthor how long I'd like myself to be continued at Hothelizod, peeking into the fuocus and pecking at thumbnail reveries, pricking up ears to my phono on the ground and picking up airs from th'other over th'ether, 'tis tramsported with grief I am by this night sublime, as you may see by my size and my brow that's all forehead, to go forth, frank and hoppy, to the tune the old plow tied off, from our nostorey house upon this benedictine errand, but it is historically the most glorious mission, secret or profund, through all the annals of our — as you so often term her — efferfreshpainted livy, in beautific repose, upon the silence of the dead, from Pharoph the nextfirst down to Ramescheckles the lastbust thing. The Vico road goes round and round to meet where terms begin. Still, onappealed to by the cycles and unappalled from by the recoursers, we feel all serene, never you fret, as regards our dutyful cask. Full of my breadth from pride I am (breezed be the healthy same!) for 'tis a grand thing (superb!) to be going to meet a king, not an everynight king, nenni, by gannies, but the overking of Hither-on-Thither Erin himself, pardee, I'm saying. Before there was a patch at all on Ireland there lived a lord at Lucan. We only wish everyone was as sure of anything in this watery world as we are of everything in the newlywet fellow that's bound to follow. I'll lay you a guinea for a hayseed now. Tell mother that. And tell her tell her old one. 'Twill amuse her.
Well, to the figends of Annamneses with the wholeabuelish business! For I declare to Jeshuam I'm beginning to get sunsick|err.!ºerr| I'm not half Norawain for
nothing. The fine ice so temperate
of our, alas, these times are not so far off as you might wish to be congealed. So now, I'll ask of you, let ye create no scenes in my poor primmafore's wake. I don't want yous to be billowfighting your biddy moriarty duels, gobble gabble, over me till you spit stout, you understand, after soused mackerel, sniffling clambake to hering and imputent barney, braggart of blarney, nor your ugly lemoncholic gobs o'er the hobs in a sewing circle, stopping oddments in maids' costumes at sweeping reductions, wearing out your ohs by sitting around on your ahs, making areekaransy round where I last put it, with the painters in too, curse me luck, with your rags up, exciting your mucuses, turning breakfarts into lost soupirs, nor your flabbies on your groaning chairs for flapjack and salonthay over Bollivar's troubles of a bluemoondag, steaming your damp ossicles, praying Holy Prohibition and Jaun Dyspeptist while Ole Clo goes through the wood with Shep togather, touting in the chestnut burrs for Goodboy Sommers and Mistral Blownowse hugs his kindlings, when voiceyversey it's my gala benefit, robbing leaves out of my taletold book. May my tunc fester if ever I see such a miry lot of maggalenes! Once upon
a drunk and a fairly good drunk it was and the rest of your blatherumskite! Just a plain shays by the fire for absenter Sh the Po and I'll make ye all an eastern hummingsphere of myself the moment that you name the way. Look in the slag scuttle and you'll see me sailspread over the singing, and what do ye want trippings for when you've Paris inspire your hat? Sussumcordials all round, let ye alloyiss and ominies, while I stray and let ye not be getting grief out of it, though blighted troth be all bereft, on my poor headsake, even should we forfeit our life. Lo, improving ages wait ye|err.!ºerr| In the orchard of the bones. Some time very presently now when yon clouds are dissipated after their forty years' shower, the odds are, we shall all be hooked and happy, communionistically, among the fieldnights elycean, élite of the elect, in the land of lost of time. Johannisburg's a revelation! Deck the diamants that never die! So cut out the lonesome stuff! Drink it up, ladies, please, as smart as you can lower it|err.!ºerr| Out with lent! Clap hands, postillion! Fastintide is by. Your
sole and myopper must hereupon part company. So for e'er now fare thee welt! Parting's fun. Take thou, the wringle's thine, love. This dime doth trost thee from mine alms. Goodbye, swisstart, goodbye! Laugh! Sure, treasures, a letterman does be often thought reading ye between lines that do have no sense at all. I sign myself. With much leg. Inflexibly yours. Ann Posht the Shorn. To be continued. Huck!
Something of a sidesplitting nature must have occurred to westminstrel Jaunathaun for a grand big blossy hearty stenorious laugh (even Drudge that lay doggo thought feathers fell) hopped out of his woolly's throat like a ball lifted over the head of a deep field at the bare thought of how jolly they'd like to be trolling his whoop, and all of them truetotypes in missammen massness were just starting to spladher splodher with the jolly magorios, hicky hecky hock, huges huges huges, hughy hughy hughy, O Jaun (Thou pure! Our virgin! Thou holy! Our health! Thou strong! Our victory! O salutary! Sustain our firm solitude, thou who thou well strokest! Hear, hairy ones! We have sued thee but late. Beauty parlous!), so jokable and so geepy, O, when suddenly (how like a woman!), swifter as mercury, he wheels right round starnly on the Rizzies suddenly, with his gimlets blazing rather sternish (how black like thunder!), to see what's loose. So they stood still and wondered. Till first he sighed (and how ill soufered!) and they nearly cried (the salt of the earth!) after which he pondered and finally he replied:
— There is something more. A word apparting and shall the heart's tone be silent. Engagements, I'll beseal you! Fare thee well, fairy well! All I can tell you is this, my sorellies. It's prayers in layers all the thumping time, begor, the young gloria's gang voices the old doxologers, in the suburrs of the heavenly gardens, once we shall have passed, after
surceases, all serene,
snug, neck and neck like Derby and June, through to our eternal retribution's reward (the scorchhouse). Shunt us! Shunt us! Shunt us! If you want to be felixed come and be parked. Sacred ease there! The Seanad and pobbelqueue's remainder. To it, to it! Seekit headup! No petty family squabbles Up There nor homemade
hurricanes in our Cohortyard, no cupahurling nor apuckalips nor no puncheon jodelling nor no nothing. With the Byrns which is far better and eve for ever your idle be. You will hardly reconnaitre the old wife in the new bustle and the farmer shinner in his latterday paint. It's the fulldress Toussaint's wakeswalks experdition after a bail motion from the chamber of horrus. Saffron buns or sovran bonhams whichever you're avider to like it and lump it, but give it a name. Eireny allover Irelands. And there's food for refection when the whole flock's at home. Hogmanny di'ye gut? Hogmanny di'ye smellygut? And hogmanny di'ye smellyspatterygut? You take Joe Hanny's tip for it|err.!ºerr| Post Mortem is the goods. With Jollification a tight second. Toborrow and toburrow and tobarrow! That's our crass, hairy and evergrim life, till one finel howdiedow Bouncer Naster raps on the bell with a bone and his stinkers stack behind him with the sceptre and the hourglass. We may come, touch and go, from atoms and ifs, but we're presurely destined to be odd's without ends. Here we moult in Moy Kain and flop on the seemy side, living sure of hardly a doorstep for a stopgap, with Whogoesthere and a live sandbag round the corner. But upmeyant, by the banks of our chlorified Amneslethea, you sprout all your abel and woof your wings, dead certain however of neuthing whatever to aye forever, while Hyam Huam's in the chair. Ah, sure, pleasantries aside, in the tail of the cow what a humptydaum earth looks our miseryme heretoday as compared beside the Hereweareagain Gaieties of the Afterpiece when the Royal Revolver of the real globoes lets regally fire of his mio colpo for the chrisman's pandemom to give over and the Harlequinade to begin properly SPQueaRking. Mark Time's Finist Joke. Putting Allspace in a Notshall.
Well, the slice and veg joint's well in its way and so is a ribroast and jackknife as sportan diet, but home cooking everytime. Mountain's good mustard and, with the helpings of ladies' lickfigs and gentlemen's relish, I've eaten a griddle. But I fill twice as stewhard what I felt before when I'm after eating a few natives. The crisp of the crackling is in the
chawing. Give us another cup of your scald! Santos Mozos! That was a damn good
cup of scald. You could trot a mouse on it. I ingoyed your pick of hissing hot luncheon fine, I did, thanks awfully (sublime!). Tenderest bully ever I ate with the boiled protestants (allinoilia, allinoilia!) only for your peas again was a taste tooth psalty to carry flavour with my godown and hereby return
with my best savioury condiments and a penny in the plate for the jemes. O.K. Oh Kosmos! Ah Ireland! A.I. And for kailkannonkabbis gimme Cincinnatis with Italian (but ci vuol poco!) ciccalick cheese. Haggis good, haggis strong, haggis never say die|err.!ºerr| For quid we have recipimus, recipe, O lout! And save that, Oliviero, for thy sunny day! Soupmeagre! Couldn't look at it! But if you'll buy me yon coat of the vairy furry best I'll try and pullll it awn mee. It's in fairly good order and no doubt 'twill sarve to turn. Remove this boardcloth! Next stage, tell the tabler, for a variety of Huguenot ligooms I'll try my set on edges grapeling an aigrydoucks, grilled over birchenrods, with a few bloomancowls in albies. I want to get outside monasticism. Mass and meat mar no man's journey. Eat a missal lest. Nuts for the nerves, a flitch for the flue and for to rejoice the chambers of the heart the spirits of the spice isles, curry and cinnamon, chutney and cloves. All the vitalmines is beginning to sozzle in chewn and the hormonies to clingleclangle, fudgem, kates and epas and naboc and erics and oinnos on kingclud and xoxxoxo and xooxox xxoxoxxoxxx till I'm fustfed like fungstif and very presently from now posthaste it's off yourll see me ryuoll on my usual rounds again to draw Terminus Lower and Killadown and Letternoosh, Letterspeak, Lettermuck to Littorananima and the roomiest house even in Ireland, if you can understamp that, and my next item's platform it's how I'll try and collect my extraprofessional postages owing to me by Thaddeus Kellyesque Squire, dr, for nondesirable printed matter. The Jooks and the Kelly-Cooks have been milking turnkeys and sucking the blood out of the Marshalsea since the act of First Offenders. But I know what I'll do. Great pains off him I'll take and that'll be your redletterday calendar, window machree|err.!ºerr| I'll knock it out of him! I'll stump it out of him! I'll rattattatter it out of him before I'll quit the doorstep of
old Con Connolly's residence! By the horn of twenty of both of the two Saint Collopys, blackmail him I will in arrears or my name's not penitent Ferdinand! And it's daily and hourly I'll nurse him till he pays me fine fee. Ameal.
Well, here's looking at ye! If I never leave you biddies till my stave is a bar I'd be tempted rigidly to become a passionate father. Me hunger's weighed. Hungkung! Me anger's suaged! Hangkang! Ye can stop as ye are, little lay mothers, and wait in wish and wish in vain till the grame reaper draws nigh, with the sickle of the sickles, as a blessing in disguise. Devil a
curly hair I care! If any lightfoot Clod Dewvale was to try to hold me up, dicksturping me and marauding me of my rights to my onus, yan, tyan, tethera, methera, pimp, I'd let him have my best pair of galloper's heels in his creamsourer. He will have better
manners|err.,ºerr| I'm dished if he won't! Console yourself, drawhure deelish! There's a refond of eggsized coming to
you out of me so mind you do me duty on me! Bruise your bulge below the belt till I blewblack beside you. And you'll miss me more as the narrowing weeks wing by. Someday duly, Oneday truly, Twosday newly, till Whensday. Look for me always at my west and I will think to dine. A tear or two in time is all there's toot. And then in a click of the clock, toot toot, and doff doff we pop with sinnerettes in silkettes lining longroutes for His Diligence Majesty, our longdistance laird that likes creation. To whoosh!
— Meesh, meesh! Yes, pet. We were too happy. I knew something would happen. I understand, but listen, drawher nearest, Tizzy intercepted, flushing but flashing from her dove and dart eyes as she tactilifully grabbed her male corrispondee to fluster sweet nunsongs in his quickturned ear. I know, benjamin brother, but listen, I want, girls palmassing, to whisper my whish. (She,
like them like us, me and you, had thoud he n'er it would haltin so lithe when leased is tacitempust tongue.) Of course, engine dear, I'm ashamed for my life (I must clear my throttle) over this lost moment's gift of memento nosepaper which I'm sorry, my precious, is allathome I with grief can call my own but all the same, listen, Jaunick, accept this witwee's mite, though
witweeny piece torn in one place, from my hands in second place of a linenhall valentino with my fondest and much left to tutor. X.X.X.X. It was heavily balledicted for young Fr Ml, my pettest parriage priest, and you know who between us by your friend the pope, forty ways in forty nights, that's the beauty of it, look, scene it, ratty. Too perfectly priceless for words. And, listen, now do enhance me, oblige my fiancy and bear it with you morn till life's e'en and, of course, when never you make usage of it, listen, please kindly think galways, again or again, never forget, of one absendee, not sester Maggy. Ahim. That's the stupidest little cough. Only be sure you don't catch your cold and pass it on to us. And, since levret bounds and larks is soaring, don't be all the night. And this, Joke, a sprig of blue speedwell, just a spell of floralora so you'll mind your veronique. Of course, Jer, I know you know who sends it, presents that please, mercy, on the face of the waters like that film obote in the magginbottle. Awfully charming, of course, but it doesn't do her justice, apart from her cattiness. Of course, please too write, won't you, and leave your little bag of doubts, inquisitive, behind you, unto your utterly thine and, thank you, forward it back by return pigeon's pneu to the loving in case I couldn't think who it was or any funforall happens I'll be so curiose to see in the Homesworth breakfast tablotts so as I'll know etherways by pity bleu if it's good for my system, what exquisite buttons, gorgiose, in case I don't hope soon to hear from you. And thanks ever so many for the ten and the one with nothing at all on. I will tie a knot on
my stringamejip to letter you with my silky paper, as I am given now to understand it will be worth my price in money one day, so don't trouble to ans unless smthg special as I am getting his pay and wants for nothing so I can live simply and solely for my wonderful kinkless and its loops of loveliness. When I throw away my rollets there's rings for all. Flea, a girl, says it is her colour. So does B and L and as for V! And listen to it, Cheveluir! So distant you're always. Bow your boche! Absolutely perfect! I will pack my comb and mirror to praxis my oval owes and artless awes and it will follow you pulpicly
as far as come back under all my eyes like my sapphire chaplets of ringarosary I will say for you to the Allmichael and solve quipu while the dovedoves pick my mouthbuds (msch! msch!) with nurse Madge, my linkingclass girl, she's a fright, poor old dutch, in her sleeptalking when I paint the measles on her and mudstuskers to make her a man. We. We. Issy done that, I confesh|err.!ºerr| But you'll love her for her hessians. What class she shows! And sickly black stockings, cleryng's jumbles, salvadged from the Wash. Isn't it the cat's tonsils! Simply killing, how she tidies her hair! I call her Sosy because she's sosiety for me and she says sossy while I say sassy and she says will you have some more scorns while I say won't you take a few more schools and she talks about ithel dear while I simply never talk about athel darling. But she's nice for enticing my friends and she loves your style, considering she breaks in me shoes for me when I've arch trouble, and she would kiss my white arms for me so gratefully but apart from that she's terribly nice really, my sisther, round the elbow of Erne Street Lower. And I'll be strictly forbidden always and true in my own way and private where I will long long to betrue you along with one who will so betrue you that not once while I be betreu him not once will he be betray himself. Can't you understand? Here swheare! O bother, I must tell the trouth! My latest lad's loveliletter I am sore I done something with. I like him lots coss he never cusses. Pity bonhom. Pip pet. I shouldn't say he's pretty but I'm cocksure he's shy. Why I love taking him out when I unletched his cordon gate. Ope, Jack, and atem! Obeathe my odours and he dote so. He fell for my lips, for my lisp, for my lewd speaker. I felt for his strength, his manhood, his — do you mind? There can be no candle to hold to it, can there? And, of course, dear professor, I understand. You can trust me that though I change thy name though not the letter never while I become engaged with my first horsepower, masterthief of hearts, I will give your lovely face of mine away, my boyish bob, not for tons of donkeys, to my second mate with the twirlers, the Engineer with a passionflower (O, the wicked untruth! What a tell! That he has bought
me in his wellingtons what you haven't got!), in one of those pure
clean lupstucks of yours thankfully, Arrah of the passkeys, no matter what. You may be certain of that, fluff, now I know how to tackle. Lock my nearest next myself. So don't keep me now for a good boy for the love of my fragrant saint, you villain, peppering with fear, my goodless graceless, or I'll first murder you. But, hvisker, meet me after by next appointment near you know Ships just there beside the Ship at the future poor fool's circuts of lovemountjoy square to show my disrespects. Now, let me just your caroline for you, I must really so late. Sweetpig, he'll be furious! How he stalks to simself louther and lover, immutating aperybally. My prince of the courts who'll beat me to love! And I'll be there when who knows where with the objects of which I'll knowor forget. We say. Trust us. Our game. (For fun!) The Dargle shall run dry the sooner I you deny. And Mrs A'Mara make it up and be friends with Mrs O'Morum! Whoevery heard of such a think? Till the ulmost of all elmoes shall stele our harts asthone! I will write down all your names in my gold pen and ink. Everyday, precious, while m'm'ry's leaves are falling deeply on my Jungfraud's Messongesbook, I will dream telepath posts dulcets on this isinglass stream (but don't tell him or I'll be the mort of him!) under the libans and the sickamours, the cyprissis and babilonias, where the frondoak rushes to the ashside and the yewleaves too kisskiss themselves, and 'twill carry on my hearz' waves my still water's reflections in words over Margrate von Hungaria, her Quaidy ways and her Flavin hair, to thee, Jack ahoy, beyond the boysforus. Splesh of hiss splash springs your salmon. Twick twick twinkle twings my twilight as Sarterday aftermoon lex leap will smile on my fourinhanced twelvemonthsmind. And what's this I was going to say, dean? O, I understand! Listen, here I'll wait on Thee till the Thingavalla with beautiful Do Be Careful teacakes, more stuesser flavoured than vanilla and blackcurrant there's a cure in, like a born gentleman till you'll resemble me, all the time you're awhile away. I swear to you, I will, by Candlemas! And, listen, joey, don't be ennoyed with me, my old evernew, when, by the
end of your chapter, you citch water on the wagon for me being turned a star I'll dubeurry my two fesces under Pouts Vanisha Creme, their way for spilling creem, and, accent, umto extend my personnalitey to the latents, I'll boy me for myself only of expensive rainproof of pinked elephant's breath grey in the loveliest sheerest|err,err| dearest widowshood over airforce blue I am so wild for, my precious once, Hope Bros, Faith Street, Charity Corner, as the bee loves her skyhigh, for I always had a crush on heliotrope since the dusess of yore cycled round the Finest Park. And listen. And never mind me laughing at what's at. Ever! I was in the nerves but it's my last day. Always about this hour, I'm sorry, when our gamings for Bruin
and Noselong is all oh you tease and afterdoon my lickle pussiness I stheal heimlick in my russians from the attraction park with my terriblitallboots calvescatcher, Pinchapoppapoff, who is going on to be a jennyroll, at my nape, drenched, love, with dripping, to affectionate slapmamma but last at night, look, after my golden violents wetting in my upperstairs splendidly welluminated with such lidlylac curtains wallpapered to match the cat and a fireplease, keep looking, of priceless pearlogs (I just want to see will he or are all Michaels like that) I'll strip straight after devotions before his fondstare — and I mean it too (thy gape to my gazing I'll bind and makeleash) — and poke stiff under my isonbound with my soiedisante chineknees cheeckchubby chambermate for the night's foreign males and your name of Shane will come forth between my shamefaced whesen with other lipth I nakest open my thighth when just woken by his toccatootletoo my first morning. So now, to thalk thildish, thome, theated with Mag at the oilthan we are doing to thay one little player before doing to deed. And a tiss to the tassie, for lu and for tu! Coach me how to tumble, Jaime, and, listen, with supreme regards, Juan, in haste, warn me which to ah ah ah ah …