Text FW 050 – Finnegans *web* Wake

50
of undiscernibles where the Baxters and the Fleshmans may		1
they cease to bidivil uns and (but at this poingt though the iron		2
thrust of his cockspurt start might have prepared us we are well-		3
nigh stinkpotthered by the mustardpunge in the tailend) this		4
outandin brown candlestock melt Nolan's into peese! Han var.		5
Disliken as he was to druriodrama, her wife Langley, the prophet,		6
and the decentest dozendest short of a frusker whoever stuck his		7
spickle through his spoke, disappeared, (in which toodooing he		8
has taken all the French leaves unveilable out of Calomne-		9
quiller's Pravities) from the sourface of this earth, that austral		10
plain he had transmaried himself to, so entirely spoorlessly (the		11
mother of the book with a dustwhisk tabularasing his obliteration		12
done upon her involucrum) as to tickle the speculative to all but		13
opine (since the Levey who might have been Langley may have		14
really been a redivivus of paganinism or a volunteer Vousden)		15
that the hobo (who possessed a large amount of the humoresque)		16
had transtuled his funster's latitat to its finsterest interrimost. Bhi		17
she. Again, if Father San Browne, tea and toaster to that quaint-		18
esttest of yarnspinners is Padre Don Bruno, treu and troster to		19
the queen of Iar-Spain, was the reverend, the sodality director,		20
that eupeptic viceflayer, a barefaced carmelite, to whose palpi-		21
tating pulpit (which of us but remembers the rarevalent and		22
hornerable Fratomistor Nawlanmore and Brawne.) sinning society		23
sirens (see the [Roman Catholic] presspassim) fortunately became		24
so enthusiastically attached and was an objectionable ass who very		25
occasionally cockaded a raffles ticket on his hat which he wore all		26
to one side like the hangle of his pan (if Her Elegance saw him		27
she'd have the canary!) and was semiprivately convicted of mal-		28
practices with his hotwashed tableknife (glossing over the cark		29
in his pocket) that same snob of the dunhill, fully several year-		30
schaums riper, encountered by the General on that redletter		31
morning or maynoon jovesday and were they? Fuitfuit.		32
When Phishlin Phil wants throws his lip 'tis pholly to be fortune		33
flonting and whoever's gone to mix Hotel by the salt say water		34
there's nix to nothing we can do for he's never again to sea. It		35
is nebuless an autodidact fact of the commonest that the shape of		36

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