1st typescript, January 1925 and Spring 1926, §3A draft level 4', 4

MS British Library 47484a 58-80; 39-52 Draft details

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Lowly, longly a wail went forth. Pure Yawn lay low. On the mead of the hillock he lay, brief wallet to his side, an arm loose by his staff of citron briar. Most distressfully (but, my dear, how successfully!) to wail he did, his locks of a Lucan tinge, quickrich, ripely rippling, unfilleted, those lashbetasselled lids on the verge of closing time, whiles out of his sidewiseopen mouth the breath of him evenso languishing as the princeliest treble treacle or lichee chewchow purse could buy. Yawn in a semiswoon lay awailing and (hooh!) what helpings of honeyful swoothead! (phew!) which earpiercing dulcitude! As were you suppose to go and push with your bluntblank pin in hand upintohis fleshasplush cushionettes of some chubby boybold love of an angel. Hwoah!

When, as the buzzer brings the light brigade, keeping the home fires burning, so on the churring call themselves came at him|4, three kings of three suits and a crowner,4| from all their cardinal parts, along the amber way where Brosna's furzy. To lift them they did|4, senators four,4| by the first quaint skreek of the gloaming, and they hopped it up the mountainy molehill, traversing climes of old times gone by, of the days not worth remembering, |4remembering,4| inventing some excusethems, any sort, having a sevenply
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sweat of |4nightfears nightbluesº4| moist upon them — |4feefee!º4| phopho|4.!!4| foorchtha|4,!!!4| aggala|4,!!!!4| jeeshee|4,!!!!!4| paloola|4,!!!!!!4| ooridiminy|4,!!!!!!!4| Afeard themselves were to wonder at the class of |4'coon a crossroads puzzler4'| he would likely be, length by breadth nonplussing his thickness, ells upon ells of him, making so many square yards of him, one half of him in Conn's half but the whole of him nevertheless in Owenmore's five quarters. There would he lay till they would him descry, spancelled down upon a blossomy bed at one foul stretch amongst the daffydowndillies, the flowers of narcosis |4fettering fourfettering4| his footlights, a halohedge of wild spuds
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hovering over him, epicures waltzing with gardenfillers, puritan shoots advancing to Aran chiefs. Phopho! The meteorpulp of him, the seamless rainbowpeel. Aggala! His bellyvoid of nebulose with his neverstop navel. Paloola! And his veins shooting melanite phosphor, his creamtocustard cometshair and his |4arrowroot asteroid4| knuckles, ribs and members. Ooridiminy! His electrolatiginous twisted entrails belt.

Those four claymen clomb together to hold their sworn |4inquiry starchamber quiry4| on him. Up to the esker ridge it was, Mullingar parish, to a mead that was not far, the son's rest. First klettered |4Matthew Shanator4| Gregory, |4seeking spoor4| through the deep timefield; then |4(Marcus Shanator4| Lyons, tailing the wavy line of his partition |4footsteps) footsteps4| (something in his blisters was telling him all along how he had been in that place one time); then His Recordership, Dr |4Luke Shunadure4| Tarpey, |4caperchasing4| after honourable sleep, hot on to the aniseed; and, up out of his prompt corner, old |4Johnny Shunny4| Mac, MacDougal the hiker, in the rere of them on the run to make a quorum. Roping their ass he was, their skygrey globetrotter, by way of an afterthought, and such legs on him they were that much oneven it was tumbling he was by four lengths|4, the big ass,4| to hear with his unaided |4ear ears4| the harp in the air, the bugle
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dianablowing, wild as wild, the mockingbird whose word is misfortune, so 'tis said, the bulbul down the wind.

The proto was traipsing through the tangle then and his station was a few perch to the weatherside of the knoll Usnach and it was from no other place unless there that he proxtended aloof |4'upon the ether4'| the hand making silence. The buckos beyond on the lea then stopped wheresoever they found their standings and that way they set watch about him, upholding their broadawake probers' hats on their firrum heads. And a crack quatyouare of stenoggers they made of themselves |4in their aggregate age4|, all told, not even to the seclusion of their beast by them that was the odd trick of the pack |4and no friend of carrots4|. And|4, whatº do you think,º4| who |4'above all other persons4'| should be laying there forenenst them only Yawn! All of asprawl he was laying too |4amengst the poppies4| and, I can tell you something more than that, he was profoundly asleep. And it was far more similar to a satrap he lay there |4with unctuous beauty4|, by satellites all surrounded, or for |4all whatall4| I know like the Lord Lumen coaching his preferred constellations in faith and doctrine, for old Matt Gregory 'tis he had the starmenagerie: Marcus Lyons and Lucas Metcalfe Tarpey and the mack that never forgave the ass that lurked behind him, Johnny na Hossaleen.

More than their good share ensorcelled you would say themselves were the way they could not rightly tell their heels from their stools, as they cooched down |4a mamalujo4| by his |4cubical4| crib, curchycurchy, gawking on him and softnoising one of them to another one, the boguaqueesthers.
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And it is what they began to say to him then, the masters, what way was he.

— He's giving, the wee bairn. Yun has lived.

— Yerra, why dat, my leader?

— Is he boosed or what, |4acushla alannah4|?

— Or his wind's from the wrong cut, says Ned of the Hill.

— Lesten!

— Why so and speak up, do you hear me, you, sir?

— Or he's rehearsing somewan's funeral.

— Whisht outathat! Hubba's up!

And as they were spreading abroad |4on their octopuds4| their drifter nets, gleamy seiners' nets, and no lie, there was words |4'of assonance4'| being softspoken among those quartermasters.

— Get busy, kid!

— Chirpy, come now!

— The present hospices is a good time.

— I'll take on that chap.

For it was in the back of their mind's ear how they would be spreading |4in quadriliberal4| their azurespotted fine attractable net from Matt |4Senior4| to the |4thurrible4| mystagogue after him and from thence to the neighbour and that way to the |4puysny4| donkeyman |4and his crucifer's cauda4|. And in their minds years |4back backslibrisº4| so it was how they would be meshing that way the quavers of scaly silver and the clutches of chromes of the highly lucid spanishing gold, whilst, as hour gave way to hour, with Yawn himself keeping time with his thripthongue, to ope his blurbeous lips he would the way |4'mist myrrh4'| of the |4'fields |amoors moora|4'| and molten |4'moonset moonmist4'| would be melding |4into indo4| his mouth.
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— First, if yu don't mine. Name yur |4groun historical grouns4|.

— This same |4historical prehistoric4| barrow 'tis, the orangery.
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— I see. Very good now. It is in your orangery, I take it, you have your letters? |4Can you hear here?4|

|4Thousands. Thorsends.º For my darling. Typette!4|

— So long aforetime? |4Can you hear better?4|

— Millions. |4|aFor godsends.a| For my darling one.4|

— Now|4, to come nearer zone,º4| I would like to raise a point |4of language audibly4| touching this. There is this maggers. I am told there are fully six hundred and six |4words ragwords4| in your |4malherbal Magis4| language for monarch but not one term |4that grows in all Tallaght4| to signify |4majesty majestate4|. Is |4that the case such |athe casematter casematter then the unde derivatura|4|? |4Magis magis enarratur Minus hoc intelligo.4|

— C'est mal prononcé. |4Moi, j'ai Moy,º jay trouvay la |aclay dans clee danga| les champz.4|

— Hep there! Whu's thot talkin |4so clooverº4|? Whure yu?

|4Tristan Patrick Trinathan Partnickº4| Dieudonné. |4Have you seen her?4|

— Are you in your fatherick|4, lonely one4|?

— The same. |4|aThree |bpersians personsb|.a| Have you seen my darling |aonlya| one?4|

— What are yu shevering about like a houn |4'in hellº4'|? Is there cold on ye? |4|aHave you the doraphobia?a| Or Or do yu want yur |amam schoolmama|?4|

— The woods of Fochlut. |4I hear you calling. falling.4|

— I know that place better than annyone. Sure,
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I used to be always over there at my grandmother's place with the long dogs coursing. That's the place for the oysters, Puldudy|4,º county Galway4|. I never knew how rich I was carrying my ass|4, Meath's marvelº,4| along the shore. Did you know Jasper Dougal |4out there that keeps Theº Anchorº on the Mountainº4|, Pat Whateveryournameis?

— The wolves of Fochlut. |4By |aWhatdoyoucallhim. Howdoyoucallhim.a|4|

— Wisha an that's a good wan right enough! Wooluvs no less!

— One moment now. I would like to put a question. Tell me now this. You told us |4rather previously4| a moment since about this |4mound or4| barrow. Now I suggest to you that ere there was this |4barrow plaguebarrow4|, as you |4seem to4| call it, there was a |4burial4| boat. Would you bear me out in that? |4An The Frenchman, I say,º was an4| orange boat. |4What?º4|

— Norsker. Her raven flag was out. |4Crouch low, you pigeons three!º4| Say, call that girl with the tan tress on. Call Wolfhound! Wolf of the sea. Folchut! Folchut!

— Very good now. I will go on |4from that |awith the parent shipa| far away from those green hills4|. From Daneland sailed the oxeyed man. Now mark well what I say.

— Magnus Spadebeard. Signed to me with his baling scoop. Laid bare his breastpaps to give suck to me, to suckle me.
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— O Jayses' fluid! says the poisoned well!!

— Hep! Hello there! Whu's he? Whu's thes lad wi' the pups?

— Hunckalus Childared Easterheld.

— Hey! |4Did you dream that?4|

— I see, yes. |4A child's dread |a|bof forb| a vicefathera|. You took the words out of my mouth.4| You mean you lived |4as Milkyº4| with them while you learned to howl |4yourself |aWolfy Wolfwisea|4|.

— Here, hold me hat till I die of |4surprise. astonishment.4|

— Whaat! Whoah! Taalk very slowo!
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Hail him heathen, heal him holystone!
Courser, recourser, changechild, ..........
Eld as endall, earth .................

— Was this |4Ancestor4| before Domini nostri |4'in Anno Mundi 4'|

|4'— On |aaºa| Monday |aI |bslept sleepb|.a|4'| |4I dreamt of a sunday Sunday. Onº a Monday I |ashalla| wake.4|

|4Earth. I see. I have your tristich now. |aItº |bis recurs inb| three times the same differently.ºa| And speaking of |athis same famous sire of yours,a| Mr Tupplingº Towne,º4| Would he |4now be reoccur in4| city or county if you know the difference

— Well, |4I am advisedº4| he might |4in a sense4| be both nonobstant
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like myself. Tigon or liger. |4I am afraid you could not heaveº your own |aolda| stepstones over a stumbledown wall here to this classic night but they might binge off the glosshouseº back of a raceriderº e in his true flesh colours,º either handicapped on her flat or barely repeating himself.4| That is an old fellow now|4, Tommy Terracotta,4| and he could be all our das, the brodar of the founder of the father of the author of the finder of the first man in Ranelagh.

— Muddybroth! And where do we get off, young fellow?

— Vulva vulva vulva vulva!

— Macdougal that is, |4or his onagrass4| coughing. I would go near identifying you by your stavrotides. And that |4O'mulanchonryº4| plucher you have |4|afrom offa| the worst coast of Ireland4| is no use to you either, Johnny my donkey, O. Number four, |4fix up your spreadeagle and4| pull your weight!

— D'ye ken a young |4scholar stepscholar4| the name of Kevin that was shooing a gagag that foun the dogumen number one?

— I no way need you, stroke oar, nor your quick handles. You're too |4far farfastº a cock of the4| north there|4', Matty Armagh,4'| and you're south so.

— South, I see. This is better. The man that found it there was the man that put it there originally. But how did it come into your possession? That's the point I raise now in so many |4counterpoint4| words.
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Now we have cause |4'and causing4'|
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effect |4'and effect recausing aftereffect4'|. Or I will put it another way. There is a strong suspicion on |4young counterfeit4| Kevin. |4'Tisº the bellsº of scandal that gave tune to grumble about him and someone between me & thee.4| Now, have you a reasonable |4doubt dubitance4| in your mind about him or are you in your post? Spell me that without delay.

— I'll see you |4moved4| farther, blarneying Mark. That |4babe,º the4| innocent |4of but fifteen primesº you all lionise4|, did I |4alter altermobile4| him to |4a flare in4| hogsfat? I don't know I'm sure but God |4the |aprime firsta| mover4| knows I was altered |4first to thrice4|. If I |4confessed crouched downº |ain my
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pasta| and confessed
4| in clean before him |4to my soreº4| why did you, my |4sext4| best friend, blather always you would |4be so delated to4| back me to Humphrey
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and Nephew for the post |4in his night office4| and then you |4snub4| round |4and you canvass in your moving motion to4| the other |4crowd catechumensº4| and you say I'm uppish and |4not none4| mere Irish. Well, |4before Avtokinatownº,4| I may as well correct that |4vespian4| now in case of |4temcoralities temporalities4|. I've my pockets full |4complay4| of you laycreated cardinals. My |4ruridecanal4| caste is a cut above |4yours you peregrines4|. Look at my |4brand jailbrand |ahighmarked High markeda|4| on me |4in the foreign4|. Eggs squawfish lean yoe nun feed marecurious!
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I can |4point laudº4| to my patrician |4morning4| coat of arms|4. with my |ahigha| tripenniferry |acrest cresta properºa| and caudal motto:º Itch dean!º Eeho stay so!º4| And mine is the |4only first4| |4proper personal4| |4name |aegoname Egonamea|4| |4to be Yod4| heard in doomsday book. Suck at!

— Suck it yourself, sugarstick! |4|aAre you spreaking Inglis or are you spreaking Djoytsch? Are we spreaking tea Inglis landage or are you spraking sea Djoytsch?a|4| |4Who's Misha,º who's4| asking to look at your sore toe? What about your |4bottlewasher thrupenny croucher4| of an old fellow, tell us? What about the bonafide peachlover, esquire earwugs|4,º before there was a sound in the world4|? How big was his best friend? The swaaber! The twicer! |4Bloody Loud's4| curse to him! |4If you |aheard harda| him |aouterlya| as we here blank with his drums and bones and tubes and hums your inner ear'd |ahardly heerdlya| hear he.4|

— Nicey Doc Mistel Lu, please! |4Me gnemgnem damfool. me gnemgnem walmaluky damfool.4| Me no savvy allsame numpa one Topside Tellmastoly fella. Me savvy nothel time. Goddam cowbellymaam belongame shepullamealong jackinaboss belongashe. |4Me plentymuch boohoo me Plentymuchº |aboohoomeato boohoomeoa|4|.

— Thot's never the postal cleric!
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Are yu Roman Cathrick 432?

Quadrigue my yoke.
Triple my tryst.
Tandem my sire.

— Tantris. |4Hattrick.4| I |4see now see4|. |4|aThe old order changeth yet the last is as the first.a| Now a little psychosinology. Now I am placing that initialº T square |auprightºa| to your temple aº moment. Do you see anything?,º templar?4|

|4I see a |afrench blackfrencha| priestrycook |aa| who is carrying on his brainpan |aa| a cathedral of lovejelly for his … Tiens, how he is like somebody!

— I |ainvert horizonta| the |ainitial I same Jº a| and lay it lightly to your lip a little. What do you feel, liplove?

— I feel a fine |a|bunreadb|a| lady … floating on a |astream stillstreamºa| of |aisinglass isisglassa| … with gold hair to the bed and white arms to |aVenus the |bstars twinklarsb|a|O la la!º4|

|4— I invert the initial Iº and sign it sternly on your breast. What do you hear, breastplate?

— I hear a hopper behind the door slapping his feet in a pool of |ablood brana|..... Teins donc, it he is diamond cut diamond!4|
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Now I feel called upon to ask did it ever occur to you, |4qua you,º4| prior to this, by a stretch of
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your |4Irish4| imagination that you might|4, per accidens,º4| be very largely substituted |4in your next life4| by a complementary character? |4Think!4|

|4I'm trying to.4| Once or twice |4when I |athought Ia| was trying on my garment substitute4| and maybe more largely than you yet realise. A few times as I chanced to be stretching |4the life out of4| myself in my imagination I felt feeling |4queer |alike a half of Scotch a half Scotch likea|4| round my middle aging so that I'm not myself at all |4when I realise myself |ahow becomingly I am becoming to becomea|4|.

|4O, is that the way with you|a, you craythura|? The voice is the voice of jokeup, I |afare feara|.4| Are you |4imitatingº4| Roma now or Amor now? Tell me, Mr Trickpat|4., ifº you don't mind answering |aa mya| straight question?º4|

|4I won't mind answering your |astricta| question whereas it would be as unethical for me |anowa| to answer as it h would have been nonsensical for you then not to have asked.º |aOut of my name you call me.a| You knew me once but you won't know me twice.4| I am simpliciter arduus|4,º Friday's child in loving and thieving4|. |4Dearly beloved brethren!º4| Bruno and Nolan, the stationery lifepartners off |4Nassau Nessau4| Street, were explaining it
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all round each other ere yesterweek. When |4'heupon himupon4'| Nolan Bruno monopolises his egobruno most unwillingly senses by the mortal powers alionolan equal and opposite brunoipso, ipso, id est, eternally provoking alio opposite equally as provoked as Bruno at being eternally opposed by Nolan.

— You mean |4an4| alibi, do you|4,º suffering from the singular but enjoying on the plural4|?

— I mean my |4alibi alibi4| brother |4|athe Cabler Cable who is senderº of the daily telegraph every nighta|4|. |4Assass. Dub. |aStarving todaya| Opening tomorrow wire |acash. splosh.a| Cable.4|
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I want to know with much thanks|4, here's ditto,º4| if he lives in Australia or anywhere my fond |4brother fosther,º4| Alibi Nolan, |4off the Jerrybuilt,º4| not belonging to these parts whom I |4recall being remember him to me with his roaming |aI suppose a|4| a total abstainer. |4I call you my |abrether halfbrethera| because you |ain your soberer momentsa| remind me |adeeplya| of my |abrother |bnaturalb| brothela| who is dearly beloved by Sydney. and Alibany.4|

— Who is Mr Nolan |4nominally4|?

— Mr Nolan is |4|ainformally pronominallya|4| Mr Gottgab.

|4By maiden name.4| I see. |4I get it. Heº stands for you before a direct object in the feminine.4| Now will you just search through your |4gabgut4| memoirs for this impersonating |4medium pronolan4|. Would it be a |4fellow Dublinganger4| much about your own |4size medium4| with a sandy whiskers?

— Treble Stouter |4of Baggot Streetº (|awho I met I surpassed himºa| lately in Foster's Place)º4| is doing the dirty on me with his tantrums and all these |4godgiven4| kilowatts that I'd be better off without. |4Letter for you,º Mr Nobru!º Letter for you, Mr |aLano Anola|! I only hope blank4|
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|4Stouter and stouter |aTugbags and Bagguts Tugbag is Baggut streeta|4|. I see. |4We can cap that |atop tipa| with our street that is called corkscrew. It would be the finest |astreet boulevard billya| in Europe, Patrick's,º if they took the bend of out of the middle of it.4| Now you told us of this tryst. I wonder now, without releasing secrets of the alcove, have I heard the name anywhere?

|4Marik! Marik! Marik! Marak! Marak! Marak!4|
Ha |4drapped drappadº4| has |4drariks draraks4| a tha |4parik parak4|
And ha had ta barraw |4the tha4| watarcrass shartclathes aff tha |4arkbishap arkbashap4| af |4Yarik. Yarak!º4|

|4O cross of Cong and water! O thrush of Tara!4| And he said he was only taking the grass temperature |4for Greenº |aThursday Thurdsday a|!º The first time he put on
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|ahis recrutiona| trousers was when Ireland wouldn't |arecruit join upa|
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|44| How voice you that, nice Sandy man? Not large goodman is he, Sandy nice? Ask him this one minute in his good ear where he dropped his bass's voice.

— Well, I beg to traverse above statement inasmuch as my revered was confined to guardroom by |4my m pint of his pilsen bottle whichº I brought to our aural surgeon,4| Doctor Achmed Borumborad, for repairs done |4by bollworm4| on our premises in the rere of pilch knickers, property of my deeply revered, entailing a laxative tendency especially with him being forbidden fruit and certified to have functional valvular, and thereinafter liable to succumb if served with |4letters of4| subpenis when my reputed husband
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took a |4drink brief one4| out of the given |4bottle mineral bottle4|, telling me of a welcomed |4experience aperrytiff4| (he never battered one eye |4before paying me his duty4| but he looked plum into my face like the end of time
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) and he simply showed me |4a poker his leadpoker4| which was then produced with the remark: |4This Lithia, thisº4| is for Sneak

|4Chaseº me,º Charleyº, I've got barley!º4| Creeping through the children of Mary's class camouflaged as a blancmange and marmalade! Three cheers for the name Dan Magrath!

— I would misdemean to rebuke to the libels of snots |4fromº the fleshmarket.4| |4the The4| said Sully, he is Magrath's thug and |4smells cheaply of Power's spiritsº4| he is not fit enough to throw guts down to a bear. If they cut his nose on |4him the stitcher4| they had their good reasons. |4Here's my |asnuff and trouta| stoken |awith the Mosa a mosaic of dispensationa| for the first if you want to stretch him by starlight.4| Inasmuch as I am delightful to be able to state that a handsome sovereign was freely pledged |4in a cherrywickerbasketfull |aunder Shadow |bla Lab| Rose,ºa|4| to both lady performers of |4vocal act display unmentionable4| by that noblest of magistrates |4at his Saxon tanneryº4| with |4motto,º O'Neillº Saw Queen Molly's pants Pants,º and much4| admired engraving meaning complete manly parts during alleged recent act |4of our chief magistrades4| as required by statues. |4If you won't believe me stay to pleaseº me up the leg of me.4| Now you see! |4Respect. Your wife. Anne.º4|

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Sure, that old humbugger was boycotted as I'm given now to understand. There was nobody would come next or near him after that.

— Arrah, man dear, weren't they arriving in all their centuries for to pay their firstrate duties before him, in his reunited magazine, the Grand Old MacGuinness Mor, boot kings and indiarubber umpires and shahs from Paisley and sultana raisins and a row of jam sahibs and an odd principess in her |4'pretticoat pettedcoat4'| and the queen of playing clubs and the Claddagh ringleaders and the two salames and the Halfa Ham with two fat maharashers and the German silver geyser, and he polished up gorgeous, tintinabulating to himself. And there was J. B. Dunlop, the
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|4best4| tyrant of our times, |4and a queue of4| French wine stuarts and Tudor keepsakes and the Cesarewitch for the current counter riding up the holy staircase on muleback, hindquarters to the |4fore fore,4| and he holding on to his natural anthem, Horsey, keep your tail up, and as much as the vacant throneroom could safely accommodate of the house of Orange and Bitters |4M.P.4|, permeated by Druids |4D.P.4| and Brehons |4B.P.º4| and Flawhoolaghs |4F.P.º4| and Anteparnellites |4P.P.4|, all murdering Irish out of their boon companions after plenty of fresh stout for to nobble or salvage their |4'bit herobitº4'| of him, the poor old basiloose, Dodderick Ogonach Wreck, lying high as he lay with his buttend up, exposed for sale after inspection, most highly astounded, as it turned up, at thus being reduced to nothing.

— D'yu mean to set there where y'are now, Sorley boy, repeating yurself, and tell me that?

— I mean to sit here where you are now, Surly guy, replete in myself, as long as I live. If I can't upset this pound of ollaves I can sit setup upon him.

— Oliver! Was that a groan did I hear or the Dingle bagpipes?

Tristris! Anima mea!

— Is the mound moving or what babel is this, tell me?

— Whoishe whoishe whoishe whoishe linking in? Whoishe whoishe whoishe?
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— Lay yer lug till the |4groun, groun',4| man. They're playing thimbles and bodkins. |4Clan of the Gael!4| Hep! Whu's within?

|4— Dovegall and finshark they are. Ringº to the rescueº!4|

Zinzin. Zinzin.

Crum abu! Cromwell to victory!

We'll gore them and gash them and gun them and gloat on them.


— O, widows and orphans, it's the yeomen! Redshanks for ever! |4Up Lancs!4|

— The cry of the deer it is! |4Lo, the white roe!º Title! Title!º4|

Christ in the fort! Christ in the chariotseat!

Slog and sluaghter! Rape the daughter! Choke the pope!

O cloudy father! Unsure! Nongood!


Sold! I am sold! Brinabride, goodbye! Brinabride!

Pipette dear! Me! Me!

Fort! Fort! Bayroyt! March!

Me! I'm true. True! Isolde! Pipette, my precious!


Brinabride, get my price! Brinabride!

My price, my precious?


Brinabride, my price! When you sell get my price!
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Pipette! Pipette, my precious one!

Zinzin. Zinzin.

— Now we're gettin it. Hello!
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— Hello! |4Tell your title?4|


— Hellohello! Ballymacarett! Am I thru, miss?


|4— What is the ti...?º4|

— Now, just permit me a moment. Are you there? Hello. Sybil Head here. Yes. Very good now. Do you remember the midsummer night following a crying fair day?

— Well.

— There were fires on every bald hill in holy Ireland that night. |4Better so?4|

— You may say they were.

— Were they bonfires? |4That clear?4|

— No other name would at all befit them unless that. Bonafieries! With their blue beards streaming to the heavens.

— Was it a high white night now?

— Whitest night mortal ever saw.

— Was there rain by any chance?
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— Plenty.
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— There fell some fall of |4littlewinter4| snow as well, I gather.

— The nicest at all.

— Did it not blow some gales rather strongly to less?

— Out of all jokes it did.

— Do you happen to recollect whether the moon was shining at all?

— Sure she was

— And was there frostwork about and thick weather and everything?

— There was. July at its worst.

— I see. Now you know the kikkenmidden where the couple first met with each other?
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— Indeed then I do.

— Is it a place fairly exposed to the four winds?

— Well, I |4very4| sincerely |4hope believe4| so |4indeedy4|, if |4all4| what I |4hear hope4| is |4all half4| true.

— Is it Woful Dane Bottom?

— It is woful |4in need4| whatever about anything else.

— There used to be a tree there stuck up.

— There used|4, sure enough4|. And the crandest |4consecrated4| maypole tree in all the |4reignladenº4| world. |4Father and mother of a plant Squiremade and damesman of plantagenets|a, high & holya|4|!

|4What was it doing there, tell us?


— You saw it |avisiblya| from your hidingplace?

— No. From my |ainvisiblya| lyingplace.

— And you |asaw |bthenb| took down |bin stereob|a| what took place being |a|bthen tuncb|a| committed?

— I |athena| took my |aplace takenplacea| lying down, I |athunk Iºa| told you.4|

|4Just4| How grand |4in cardinal rounders4| is this |4preeminent4| giant? |4Tell I would like to hear you tell4| us |4in strict conclave4| what you know |4in petto4| about the |4plant S sovereign beanstalk4|. |4|aShow us the latitude of his omnitude.a| Speak up!4|
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|4Your Ominence, Your Imminence. O delicted fraternitree!º4| There's queensmaids and |4iris treegirls iris freegirls and woody babies4| growing upon her and Tyburn fenians snoring in his bole and crossbones strewing its holy floor and culprits of Erasmus Smith's boys climbing to her |4crock crotch with underhand leadpencils4| and the Kilmainham pensioners chucking |4farthings overthrown milestones4| up to her to fall her cranberries and cock robins hatching out his mistletoe eggs for him, the sun and moon pegging honeysuckle and white
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heather down, creatures of the wild approaching him for to claw and rub, hermits of the desert barking their |4infernal4| shins over her |4infernal triliteral4| roots and his acorns |4and pineconesº4| |4flying shooting4| |4'wild wide4'| on all sides out of him after the birds of the air |4and some tapping resin here and more watching tar there4| and her leaves|4, my darling dearest,º4| sinsinsinning since the night of time and each and all of their branches meeting and shaking twisty hands once more all over again in the new world.

— I've got that now. The form masculine. The gender feminine. I see. Now, are you connected with it yourself in any way? The tree, I mean.

— Upfellbowm.

|4Let me recall Now you are nearer the mark4|. Are you acquainted with a pagany better known as Toucher |4Doyle |aTom Thoma|4| who is? Consider yourself on the stand now and watch your words|4, take my advice4|. |4Let your motto be: Post nubila blank4|

|4Never you mind about my mother.4| I consider|4, ifº I did,º4| I would |4be feel4| frightfully ashamed |4of admired vice4| if I was.

— He is a man of around fifty who does messages. Have you ever heard of this |4Doyle old |aboya| Thom4| who belongs to Kimmage |4and is not all there4| being most of his time down at the Green Man |4with |ahis thea| coat on him inside out against apparitions4| and mixing |4systematically4| with the public going for groceries |4and waltzywembling about in his accoutrementsº4| always when he would be finished |4'with4'| his tea? |4Crazy, isn't that?º4|

|4Is it that fellow?º4| As mad as the brambles he is. Touch him. |4|xO wait till I tell you!º

— We are not going yet.

x| And here's what he did!º4|

|4|aGet out!a| Lately?

— How do I know? Ask the horneys.4|

— Now, |4just wash &4| brush up your memory a bit. |4You will grant me, I think, that a man's old habits form his new character just as new words break old bottles. — Of course I will. So I find4| I'm wondering to myself was |4he |aThom Toucher Toucher|b, a methodistb|a|,º whose name is not really Thom, was |athis old son of a centurya|, Old Shivering William,º4| wearing false clothes |4with back buttons ostensibly4| for that occasion of the |4Arbor Day4| wedding.

|4I bet you are. Well,º4| I am sorry to have to tell you they were coming down from off him.

|4— Were Pº and ꟼ|a,º mutatisº mutandis,a| in |apretty mucha| the same |acondition pickle a|?º

— Prettiest |apickles picklingºa| |aof muteº auntiesa| I ever |apeeped bopeepeda| at.4|

|4|aWere they now?a| And were they watching to |ayou as watchera| as well?
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— They were watching the watched.

— Now,º touching our friend Thom, did you gather anything fromº what he let drop?º

— I was bloody mad, no lie.

— Is that all?

— But I was awful sorry for him.

— Were you sorry you were mad

— I was bloody mad with myself, so I was, for being sorry.4|
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— How many were married on that |4first top4| of all mornings|4,º myº good watcher4|? Everybody was |4canonically drunk thomistically stoshious4|, I |4am have been4| told, even the clocks?

— Well, naturally. |4Whiskwayº and mortem!º4| But the
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|4|arighta| reverend4| priest and |4reverent4| bride |4eleft4| were sober enough.
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|4|aPardon me if I differ buta| I think your you're wrong there |aabout your right reverencea|. Well noo,4| Magrath was best man. You saw him, or did you|4,º if that's not irrelevant4|?

— I did. |4I am sure I am wrong but4| I |4saw him heard the irreverendº Mr Magrath4| kicking |4Fox-Goodman4| the old |4sexton. That sexton around the sacristy |awhile I |band the other manb| was |btickling gicklingb| his missus in the hall. to gaggles, the divileena|,º that4| much I recall.

|4'— In epexegesis or on a point of order?

— I think it was about a pint of porter.4'|
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|4— And Drysalter, father of Izod, how was he now?

He was. |aIn the pink.a| Squeezing theº life out of the liffeyº.4|

|4— And the swiss?

— He was trouting for the boss.

— You don't say so! |aAnd the Thea| |aqueer quobusa| quartet |awas to the fore too, eh? were there too |bmastersingingb| wi to the fore with their consecutive fifth, eh? Improving on their past as usual.a|
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— They were scandalmoners, making history all over the show!º4|

— You are sure it was not a |4winker's4| wake you were at?

— Precisely.

|4— Did |aGoodman the kickee, |bGoodmanº Foxºb|,a| say anything |aimportanta|?

— Not a word.4|

|4That sounds |agood law an isochronism a|. |aBut it is good law.a| We may take those kicks for granted.4| |4Happily you You, sir, happily4| were not quite so successful in |4sublimating the process whereby you would sublimateº4| your |4|ablepharospasmodical blepharospasmockicala|4| suppressions|4, it seems4|?

|4What was that?

— Were you |anow or were you nota|? Ask yourself the |aquestion. questions.a|4|

— Quite so.

— Now|4, notº to mix up,4| cast your eyes around |4you Capel Court4|. I want you to reconstruct |4|ato fora|4| us as briefly as you can, |4in a mind's eye view,º4| how these funeral games took place.

|4Which?4| Ah, sure, I forget. 'Tis all round my hat.
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— Ah, go on with you now |4with your parrottricks4|! |4Be nice about it!4|

— Faith, then, first he come up |4|athe rakea| dragging his feet in the usual courseº |alike a schottischera|4| and |4|awas hang me if he wasn'ta| ever so |anice naas a|4| |4wanted wanting4| his calico |4body4| back |4before he'd take his life or save his life4|. Then counting as many as thirty seconds like I said he kept cursing at him |4for theº key of |athe John Dunn'sa| fieldº and4| the way |4he Montague4| was robbed to know |4all what went off and4| who burned the hay which the man|4,º that wasº raging with thirst and wanting to know what he wanted with him,º4| knew nothing about.

— In other words, was that how their |4subtler4| angelic warfare started?
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— Truly.

|4'— Did one |ascuma| thenº |acall the other |btell mention tob| the other he wasa| a pigheaded Swede?
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— It was turnipheaded dunce.4'|

— That would be about |411.30 half eleven,4| |4'pip emma4'||4.,º |aGreenwaker Greenwickera| time,º |aby your |bquadrant |cquatrangle queer quaint ¾ quidrent quatrentc|b|a|?4|

— Would it?

|4Let it be 11.30.

And it was 11.30 too.4|

|4— By which of your chronos, myº man of four watches? |aunread? Larboardº, starboard, dog,º or deathº?a|
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— You can imagine!º4|

— Will you swear all the same you saw their shadows struggling about this, that and the other |4near Theº Ruins, Drogheda Streetº,4| and kicking up |4fallen leaves the devil's own dust4| for the wind?

— I will |4|awith my tongue through my toecapa| onº the headlong stone of kismet4| if so it's the will of |4God Whose be done4|.

— They must have |4wilfully4| done some wonderful work on the quiet like. |4Don't you think so?4|

— Ay.
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|4º They were only —?

— That's all.

— I mean the Morgans and the Dorans.º

— I know you do.4|

— And this pootsch went on night after night |4a thousand and one times,º4| according to |4you. your cock and a hen story?º4| For years and years perhaps?

— That's |4right ri4|. |4From the fifth |atoe fingera| on the second foot of the fourth man to the first |aone toea| on the last one of the first. That's right.4|

|4This is not guid enough, |aJohn |bMr Leftfoot Foremost Mr Lastfoot Foremostb|a|.4| D'yu mean to tall |4us grand jurors4| on yur oath, my lad, yur moon was shining and wind blowing night after night, for years and years perhaps, after yu swearing to it a while back the other way about that there was rain in plenty all the time?

— Perhaps so, as you |4grand duly4| affirm. I never thought about it, faith. |4However..... It was told me by Tarpey |aafterº 3 o'clock mass a| that some rain was promised to Mrs |aClery Lyons, the invalid,º a| and he told me |a|bit was out in the park, says he, what follows.b| |bhe Heºb|
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was doing a walk, says he, in the feelmick's park, says he, like a |bfine old terribleb| Turk, says he, letting loose in his nursery,a| he met Mr |aMichaela| Clery |aof a Tuesdaya| who said |aFather MacGregor was desperate to the bad place about the stairrodsa| for Tarpey to go and see Father MacGregor and he was to |asalute that clergyman and tell him about the three shillingsº in the confusional |bandb|a| say about Mrs Lyons |awas the |binvalid infidelb| whoa| promised to |asend postºa| three shillings to Mr |aMichael Martina| Clery for Father |aMacGregor Matthewa| to |asay put upa| a |amass midnight mask |bof a Mondayb|a| for more |arain O hell's flutes, |bI'll be drenched and I never brought my cats & dogs blanket

— Quatsch! |4What hell areº yu |atalking flukinga| about?º4| Will yu swear or affirm the day to yur second sight now and recant that all yu affirmed and swore to at first sight was all |4untrue paddy flaherty4|?
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— Ay. I firmly swear to it that it |4was. was with my |aoleaginousa| lips continuously poised upon the |arubricateda| Annualsº of Ulster!º4|

|4That's very good of ye.4| Maybe yu wouldn't mind telling us, my labbrose lad, how very much bright cabbage do yu draw for all yur swearing?

|4Very Vurry4| nothing, I call it, for I might as well tell you the truth. It amounts to |4nil. nil inº pounds and pence, not as much as the price of a highlandman's trouserstree for the whole dumb plodding thing. However...4|

— Come on now, johnny! |4'We weren't born yesterday.4'| You were promised some staggerjuice anyway.

— Yes, by the way. When?

— How would you like to hear your right name now, |4johnny my tristy minstrel4|, if yer not freckened of frank comment?

— Not afrightened of Frank Annybody.

|4— Will you repeat that outside?

|shI will when it suits mesh|.4|

|4— Guid! We |amakea| fight!º Ready!

— But no, from example!4|
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|4— If I chuse to put a bulletº like you, clean through the grill |afor heckling,º |byou bullock,b|a| what business is that of yours, pray?

— I don't know, sir.4|

|4Gently, gently!4| Let me once more. Now my other point. |4There are |asordidlya| tales within tales. |aYou clearly understand that.a|4| Did you know
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that one of these |4two, the man two Crimeans4| with the fender, |4the taller man,4| or the coffin, if you prefer that, was accused of a certain offence or of a choice of two |4offences serious charges4|, if you like it better that way? Did you now? You did, you rogue, you?

— You hear things. Besides |4(andº serially now)º4| bushes have eyes, don't forget. |4Hah!4|

— Which would you select of the two, for choice, if you had your way? |4And Playing bull before shebears or the hindlegs off a clotheshorse?4| Did |4any4| orangepeelers |4or greengoaters4| appear periodically |4in up4| your |4sylvan4| family tree?

|4Buggered if I know!º4| It all depends on |4what how much family silver4| you |4mean by want for4| |4your family your ass and pair4|. |4Hah!4|

|4What do you mean, sir, |aby behinda| your hah?º

Nothing, sir. Hah! Hah! Hahah!4|

|4— You're a nice |athird-degreeºa| witness|a, faitha|! |aAre you a tonedeaf? Do you think we are tonedeafs in our noses |btoo to bootb|?a| Can you |anota| distinguish |aright from wrong the sense from the sound, braya|?4|

— Have you |4ever reflected, witness evewº weflected, wepowtew4|, that the evil, what though it |4were chosen wewe chosen4|, might |4nevertheless nevewtheless4| lead somehow unto good |4toward towawd4| the |4generality genewality4|?

|4— In all earnestness |aand taking a |bshow of limbs as ab| plebiscitea| does it |abegin becomea| to dawn on you now that |athe deponent,a| this man from Saint Yves,º may have been |a(one is reluctant to use the passive voice) a| as much sinned against as sinning,º |afora| if we look at it verbally perhaps there is no true noun in |aactivea| nature |awhere every being is becoming in its own eyes.a|4|

|4Ladiesgentº!,4| Me and Frisky Shorty and a few |4plebiscites fleabesides4| was just arguing friendly like over the old party. What me and Frisky wants to know is thisahere. Supposing him to have taken his epicene licence |4before the divisional4| respectively as regards them male privates and or concomitantly with all common or neuter respects to them
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public females as was very properly detained by the metropolitan in connection with this regrettable nuisance, being in strict contravention of schedule in board of forests and works byelaws regulationing amusements section of our beloved park in pursuance me and Shorty have approached a reverend gentleman of the name of Mr Coppinger with reference to a piece of fire fittings as was most obliging in this matter of his explanations given to me and Shorty, touching what the good book says concerning the merits of early bisexualism besides him citing example given by a valued friend of the Reverend Mr Coppinger of the name of Mr J. P. Cockshott as owns a pretty maisonette fronting on to the South bluffs as was telling us how Mr Cockshott|4, present holderº of the swearing belt,4| he tells him, the reverend Mr Coppinger, as how he reckoned |4himself4| up to seven mile of a school of herring passing |4themselves by4| the Bloater Naze from twelve and |4'him ariding them mayriding4'| him by the silent hour. And, reverend, he says, gut me, but them herring was as gladful as kippers could well be considering, flipping their little coppingers, pot em, the fresh little flirties, the dirty little gillybrighteners, pickle their spratties, the little smolty gallockers, and, reverend, says he, them little salty populators, says he, as sure as my |4briam4| eggs is on cockshot |4'entre nous under noose4'|, all them little upanddowndippies they was all of a wriggolo |4finskyº4| doodah in |4testimonial testimonials4| to their early bisexualism.

— Ta hell wi' ye and yer coprulation! Pelagiarist! Y'are obsexed, so y'are!

— Wait now, Leixlip! I don't follow you that far. Was it esox lucius now or salmo ferox. You are |4taking taxing4| us into the |4driven4| future, are you not, with this fishery.

— Gubbernathor! |4And he was nothing short of one!4| Spawning all over |4the his4| seven |4parishes parish churches4|!

— Lift it now, Hosty! Hump's your mark!

There's an old psalmsobbing lax salmoner Fogeyboren Herrin Plunderowse

Who went floundering with his boatloads of spermin spunk about

Leaping freck after every long tom and wet lizzy between Howth and Humbermouth.

|4'Our human conger eel! Ourº Human Conger Eel!4'|

— Hep! |4I can see him in the fesh!4| Up wi' yer whippy! Hold that lad! Play him!

— Pull you, sir! Olive quill does it. Did a rise?

— Never a fear but they'll
{f39, 526}
land him yet, Slitheryscales on liffeybank, times and times and a half a time with a pillow of sand to polster him.
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Do you say they will? I bet you they will. Among the shivering sedges so? Weedywaving. Or tulipbeds of Rush below.

|4Eh, tell us and God bless you were they Coldstream guards or how many were they seen him? |aEh, tell us, wigglewaggle, and God bless your ginger, were they grenadier guards or jenny just how many were they seen him? |bGrenadiers.b| And tell me now. Were these anglers or angelers coexistent and compresent with or without their tertium quid?ºa|4|

Three in one, one and three,

Shem and Shaun and the shame that sunders them,

Wisdom's son, folly's brother.

|4God bless your ginger, wigglewaggle!º You'reº forgetting the jennyjos for the joyboys.4|

|4Ah, God, and sure Yes, sure4| I thought it was larking |4in the clover4| with two fine young |4girls |aplayactresses strippingº |bbare maids baremaids he was b|a|4| that time. I was given to understand there was that one that was |4always4| mad gone on him|4|a, her |bfirstb| king of cloves,a| in Carrick-on-Shannon, county Leitrim4|. Sure she was near drowned in |4coldstreamsº4| admiration for herself, making faces at her crystal likeness in the brook after, all tossed as she |4was. was, the playactress!4|

— Listen, meme dearest. |4|aI'm Ama| so |asorry! sorryº you lost him,a| Poor lamb! |aYou lost him, yesa|4| Of course I know you are a very wicked girl. |4Andº it was a very wrong thing to do.4| Still, you do look lovely |4with the coldcream |aI always use in the wards and derive the greatest benefit a|4|! My, you do! |4|aSimply too adorablea| |amissinga| Only my hands are whiter|a, dear a|. |xfail, frailx| |aWhitehands, idler. Fairhair, frail one.a|4| Listen, meme sweety! It's only us two|4', meme 4'|. Of course it was downright wicked of him, really it was. |4Perfectly appalling! |aHow he adoresº me simply!a|4| Still, me and you|4, yo you poor child,º4| will make it up |4with a lie between us4| so as |4nobody nobody in the convent4|, of course, need ever know. So, meme mearest, be free to me! And, listen, youyou beauty, I'll be true to |4you who knows you while I lie with |amy lips warm lipsa| on the Tolka4|.

— How's this at all at all? One moment now. |4Think of a maiden.º Double her.º
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Take your first thoughts away from her.º
4| This young |4lady barlady,º4| what exactly is she doing? Is she having a dual |4act4| with herself with herself?

— Yer crackling out of yer turn, my Moonster friend. Answer my queskins first, johnny. Ye've as much cheek on you now as would boil a cauldron of
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kalebrose. Did the |4food inspector market missioners,º Hyde and Wombwell,º4| fine more than sixteen per cent of chalk in the purity flour of this raw materialist? We young chaps are |4briefed4| here to know had the two generals, who have been getting nosemoney cheap and stirring up the public opinion |4about private balls4| with their legs, had they their service books in order and duly signed |4J. H. North and Company4| when discharged from their last situations? Will ye gup and tell the board |4in the anterim4| how did Magrath or MacMonaghan come into awful position of the barrel of bellywash? And why, is it any harm to ask, was this |4hackney4| man in the coombe carrying his ark across his back when he might have been settin inside of her |4|amade upºa| like a cabman4|? Where were the doughboys, three in number, directing their steps according to the liaison officer, with their |4'trenchcoats trench ulcers4'| open and their hands in their pockets contrary
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to military rules, when confronted with his |4lifesize4| obstruction? Is it |4an actual a factual4| fact that this |4fancydress4| nordic in child's kilts |4and wellingtonsº4| is co-owner of a hengster's circus near North Great Denmark Street and that |4he the shamshemshowman4| has been complaining to the police barracks and applying for an order of certiorari and crying about him being molested|4, afterº him having triplets,º4| by offers of vacancies from females in this city neighing after the man ever since they seen his |4lifesize X-rayº4| picture |4turned out in wealthy red4| in the |4sabbath4| sheets? Was it him that suborned a deafmute son of his |4to to turn a Roman and4| gout in his bare |4'feet socks, the sweep,4'| and buy the usual jar of porter |4at the Morgue and Cruses4| and set it down before the wife with her fireman's |4helmet halmet4| on her, bidding her mine the |4house hoose4|, the strumpet, while him and his lagan loves were rampaging the roads |4under the noses of the constabulary4|? Where's that auxiliary officer that reported on the whole hoodlum, relying on his morse-erse wordybook |4and the truncheonº in his tail4|? Recall Sickerson |4the lizzyboy4|! Sackerson!

Day sorker four vanfloats he verdants market.
High liquor made lust torpid dough hunt her orchid.

— Hunt her orchid! Gob, and he found it on her, right enough! Bloody old preadamite with his twohandled umbrella!

— That's enough. I mean to tap the top of this|4, atº last4|. And will too|4,º if I have |aat firsta| to down every mask in Mononia4|. The governor general himself no less! |4|aOff with the Persians!a| Search ye the Finn!º4| |4Here, come, Ho, call4| evildoer! |4Doff!4|