Kategorie: Text FW Book1

29
haunt of the hungred bordles, as it is told me. Shop Illicit,		1
flourishing like a lordmajor or a buaboabaybohm, litting flop		2
a deadlop (aloose!) to lee but lifting a bennbranch a yardalong		3
(Ivoeh!) the breezy side (for showm!), the height of Brew-		4
ster's chimpney and as broad below as Phineas Barnum; humph-		5
ing his share of the showthers is senken on him he's such a		6
grandfallar, with a pocked wife in pickle that's a flyfire and three		7
lice nittle clinkers, two twilling bugs and one midgit pucelle.		8
And aither he cursed and recursed and was everseen doing what		9
your fourfootlers saw or he was never done seeing what you cool-		10
pigeons know, weep the clouds aboon for smiledown witnesses,		11
and that'll do now about the fairyhees and the frailyshees.		12
Though Eset fibble it to the zephiroth and Artsa zoom it round		13
her heavens for ever. Creator he has created for his creatured		14
ones a creation. White monothoid? Red theatrocrat? And all the		15
pinkprophets cohalething? Very much so! But however 'twas		16
tis sure for one thing, what sherif Toragh voucherfors and		17
Mapqiq makes put out, that the man, Humme the Cheapner,		18
Esc, overseen as we thought him, yet a worthy of the naym,		19
came at this timecoloured place where we live in our paroqial		20
fermament one tide on another, with a bumrush in a hull of a		21
wherry, the twin turbane dhow, The Bey for Dybbling, this		22
archipelago's first visiting schooner, with a wicklowpattern		23
waxenwench at her prow for a figurehead, the deadsea dugong		24
updipdripping from his depths, and has been repreaching him-		25
self like a fishmummer these siktyten years ever since, his shebi		26
by his shide, adi and aid, growing hoarish under his turban and		27
changing cane sugar into sethulose starch (Tuttut's cess to him!)		28
as also that, batin the bulkihood he bloats about when innebbi-		29
ated, our old offender was humile, commune and ensectuous		30
from his nature, which you may gauge after the bynames was		31
put under him, in lashons of languages, (honnein suit and		32
praisers be!) and, totalisating him, even hamissim of himashim		33
that he, sober serious, he is ee and no counter he who will be		34
ultimendly respunchable for the hubbub caused in Eden-		35
borough.		36

28
seen your missus in the hall. Like the queenoveire. Arrah, it's		1
herself that's fine, too, don't be talking! Shirksends? You storyan		2
Harry chap longa me Harry chap storyan grass woman plelthy		3
good trout. Shakeshands. Dibble a hayfork's wrong with her only		4
her lex's salig. Boald Tib does be yawning and smirking cat's		5
hours on the Pollockses' woolly round tabouretcushion watch-		6
ing her sewing a dream together, the tailor's daughter, stitch to		7
her last. Or while waiting for winter to fire the enchantement,		8
decoying more nesters to fall down the flue. It's allavalonche that		9
blows nopussy food. If you only were there to explain the mean-		10
ing, best of men, and talk to her nice of guldenselver. The lips		11
would moisten once again. As when you drove with her to Fin-		12
drinny Fair. What with reins here and ribbons there all your		13
hands were employed so she never knew was she on land or at		14
sea or swooped through the blue like Airwinger's bride. She		15
was flirtsome then and she's fluttersome yet. She can second a		16
song and adores a scandal when the last post's gone by. Fond of		17
a concertina and pairs passing when she's had her forty winks		18
for supper after kanekannan and abbely dimpling and is in her		19
merlin chair assotted, reading her Evening World. To see is		20
it smarts, full lengths or swaggers. News, news, all the news.		21
Death, a leopard, kills fellah in Fez. Angry scenes at Stormount.		22
Stilla Star with her lucky in goingaways. Opportunity fair with		23
the China floods and we hear these rosy rumours. Ding Tams he		24
noise about all same Harry chap. She's seeking her way, a chickle		25
a chuckle, in and out of their serial story, Les Loves of Selskar		26
et Pervenche, freely adapted to The Novvergin's Viv. There'll		27
be bluebells blowing in salty sepulchres the night she signs her		28
final tear. Zee End. But that's a world of ways away. Till track		29
laws time. No silver ash or switches for that one! While flattering		30
candles flare. Anna Stacey's how are you! Worther waist in the		31
noblest, says Adams and Sons, the wouldpay actionneers. Her		32
hair's as brown as ever it was. And wivvy and wavy. Repose you		33
now! Finn no more!		34
For, be that samesake sibsubstitute of a hooky salmon, there's		35
already a big rody ram lad at random on the premises of his		36

27
after Tom Bowe Glassarse or Timmy the Tosser. 'Tisraely the		1
truth! No isn't it, roman pathoricks? You were the doublejoynted		2
janitor the morning they were delivered and you'll be a grandfer		3
yet entirely when the ritehand seizes what the lovearm knows.		4
Kevin's just a doat with his cherub cheek, chalking oghres on		5
walls, and his little lamp and schoolbelt and bag of knicks, playing		6
postman's knock round the diggings and if the seep were milk		7
you could lieve his olde by his ide but, laus sake, the devil does		8
be in that knirps of a Jerry sometimes, the tarandtan plaidboy,		9
making encostive inkum out of the last of his lavings and writing		10
a blue streak over his bourseday shirt. Hetty Jane's a child of		11
Mary. She'll be coming (for they're sure to choose her) in her		12
white of gold with a tourch of ivy to rekindle the flame on Felix		13
Day. But Essie Shanahan has let down her skirts. You remember		14
Essie in our Luna's Convent? They called her Holly Merry her		15
lips were so ruddyberry and Pia de Purebelle when the redminers		16
riots was on about her. Were I a clerk designate to the Williams-		17
woodsmenufactors I'd poster those pouters on every jamb in the		18
town. She's making her rep at Lanner's twicenightly. With the		19
tabarine tamtammers of the whirligigmagees. Beats that cachucha		20
flat. 'Twould dilate your heart to go.		21
Aisy now, you decent man, with your knees and lie quiet and		22
repose your honour's lordship! Hold him here, Ezekiel Irons, and		23
may God strengthen you! It's our warm spirits, boys, he's spoor-		24
ing. Dimitrius O'Flagonan, cork that cure for the Clancartys ! You		25
swamped enough since Portobello to float the Pomeroy. Fetch		26
neahere, Pat Koy! And fetch nouyou, Pam Yates! Be nayther		27
angst of Wramawitch! Here's lumbos. Where misties swaddlum,		28
where misches lodge none, where mystries pour kind on, O		29
sleepy! So be yet!		30
I've an eye on queer Behan and old Kate and the butter, trust me.		31
She'll do no jugglywuggly with her war souvenir postcards to		32
help to build me murial, tippers! I'll trip your traps! Assure a		33
sure there! And we put on your clock again, sir, for you. Did or		34
didn't we, sharestutterers? So you won't be up a stump entirely.		35
Nor shed your remnants. The sternwheel's crawling strong. I		36

26
the pure perfection and Leatherbags Reynolds tries your shuffle		1
and cut. But as Hopkins and Hopkins puts it, you were the pale		2
eggynaggy and a kis to tilly up. We calls him the journeyall		3
Buggaloffs since he went Jerusalemfaring in Arssia Manor. You		4
had a gamier cock than Pete, Jake or Martin and your archgoose		5
of geese stubbled for All Angels' Day. So may the priest of seven		6
worms and scalding tayboil, Papa Vestray, come never anear you		7
as your hair grows wheater beside the Liffey that's in Heaven!		8
Hep, hep, hurrah there! Hero! Seven times thereto we salute		9
you! The whole bag of kits, falconplumes and jackboots incloted,		10
is where you flung them that time. Your heart is in the system		11
of the Shewolf and your crested head is in the tropic of Copri-		12
capron. Your feet are in the cloister of Virgo. Your olala is in the		13
region of sahuls. And that's ashore as you were born. Your shuck		14
tick's swell. And that there texas is tow linen. The loamsome		15
roam to Laffayette is ended. Drop in your tracks, babe! Be not		16
unrested ! The headboddylwatcher of the chempel of Isid,		17
Totumcalmum, saith: I know thee, metherjar, I know thee, sal-		18
vation boat. For we have performed upon thee, thou abrama-		19
nation, who comest ever without being invoked, whose coming		20
is unknown, all the things which the company of the precentors		21
and of the grammarians of Christpatrick's ordered concerning		22
thee in the matter of the work of thy tombing. Howe of the ship-		23
men, steep wall!		24
Everything's going on the same or so it appeals to all of us,		25
in the old holmsted here. Coughings all over the sanctuary, bad		26
scrant to me aunt Florenza. The horn for breakfast, one o'gong		27
for lunch and dinnerchime. As popular as when Belly the First		28
was keng and his members met in the Diet of Man. The same		29
shop slop in the window. Jacob's lettercrackers and Dr Tipple's		30
Vi-Cocoa and the Eswuards' desippated soup beside Mother Sea-		31
gull's syrup. Meat took a drop when Reilly-Parsons failed. Coal's		32
short but we've plenty of bog in the yard. And barley's up again,		33
begrained to it. The lads is attending school nessans regular, sir,		34
spelling beesknees with hathatansy and turning out tables by		35
mudapplication. Allfor the books and never pegging smashers		36

25
you presents, won't we, fenians? And il isn't our spittle we'll stint		1
you of, is it, druids? Not shabbty little imagettes, pennydirts and		2
dodgemyeyes you buy in the soottee stores. But offerings of the		3
field. Mieliodories, that Doctor Faherty, the madison man,		4
taught to gooden you. Poppypap's a passport out. And honey is		5
the holiest thing ever was, hive, comb and earwax, the food for		6
glory, (mind you keep the pot or your nectar cup may yield too		7
light !) and some goat's milk, sir, like the maid used to bring you.		8
Your fame is spreading like Basilico's ointment since the Fintan		9
Lalors piped you overborder and there's whole households be-		10
yond the Bothnians and they calling names after you. The men-		11
here's always talking of you sitting around on the pig's cheeks		12
under the sacred rooftree, over the bowls of memory where every		13
hollow holds a hallow, with a pledge till the drengs, in the Salmon		14
House. And admiring to our supershillelagh where the palmsweat		15
on high is the mark of your manument. All the toethpicks ever		16
Eirenesians chewed on are chips chepped from that battery		17
block. If you were bowed and soild and letdown itself from the		18
oner of the load it was that paddyplanters might pack up plenty and		19
when you were undone in every point fore the laps of goddesses		20
you showed our labourlasses how to free was easy. The game old		21
Gunne, they do be saying, (skull !) that was a planter for you, a		22
spicer of them all. Begog but he was, the G.O.G! He's dudd-		23
andgunne now and we're apter finding the sores of his sedeq		24
but peace to his great limbs, the buddhoch, with the last league		25
long rest of him, while the millioncandled eye of Tuskar sweeps		26
the Moylean Main ! There was never a warlord in Great Erinnes		27
and Brettland, no, nor in all Pike County like you, they say. No,		28
nor a king nor an ardking, bung king, sung king or hung king.		29
That you could fell an elmstree twelve urchins couldn't ring		30
round and hoist high the stone that Liam failed. Who but a Mac-		31
cullaghmore the reise of our fortunes and the faunayman at the		32
funeral to compass our cause? If you was hogglebully itself and		33
most frifty like you was taken waters still what all where was		34
your like to lay the cable or who was the batter could better		35
Your Grace? Mick Mac Magnus MacCawley can take you off to		36

24
to play cash cash in Novo Nilbud by swamplight nor a' toole o'		1
tall o' toll and noddy hint to the convaynience.		2
He dug in and dug out by the skill of his tilth for himself and		3
all belonging to him and he sweated his crew beneath his auspice		4
for the living and he urned his dread, that dragon volant, and he		5
made louse for us and delivered us to boll weevils amain, that		6
mighty liberator, Unfru-Chikda-Uru-Wukru and begad he did,		7
our ancestor most worshipful, till he thought of a better one in		8
his windower's house with that blushmantle upon him from ears-		9
end to earsend. And would again could whispring grassies wake		10
him and may again when the fiery bird disembers. And will		11
again if so be sooth by elder to his youngers shall be said. Have		12
you whines for my wedding, did you bring bride and bedding,		13
will you whoop for my deading is a? Wake? Usgueadbaugham!		14
Anam muck an dhoul ! Did ye drink me doornail?		15
Now be aisy, good Mr Finnimore, sir. And take your laysure		16
like a god on pension and don't be walking abroad. Sure you'd		17
only lose yourself in Healiopolis now the way your roads in		18
Kapelavaster are that winding there after the calvary, the North		19
Umbrian and the Fivs Barrow and Waddlings Raid and the		20
Bower Moore and wet your feet maybe with the foggy dew's		21
abroad. Meeting some sick old bankrupt or the Cottericks' donkey		22
with his shoe hanging, clankatachankata, or a slut snoring with an		23
impure infant on a bench. 'Twould turn you against life, so		24
twould. And the weather's that mean too. To part from Devlin		25
is hard as Nugent knew, to leave the clean tanglesome one lushier		26
than its neighbour enfranchisable fields but let your ghost have		27
no grievance. You're better off, sir, where you are, primesigned		28
in the full of your dress, bloodeagle waistcoat and all, remember-		29
ing your shapes and sizes on the pillow of your babycurls under		30
your sycamore by the keld water where the Tory's clay will scare		31
the varmints and have all you want, pouch, gloves, flask, bricket,		32
kerchief, ring and amberulla, the whole treasure of the pyre, in the		33
land of souls with Homin and Broin Baroke and pole ole Lonan		34
and Nobucketnozzler and the Guinnghis Khan. And we'll be		35
coming here, the ombre players, to rake your gravel and bringing		36

23
framed panuncular cumbottes like a rudd yellan gruebleen or-		1
angeman in his violet indigonation, to the whole longth of the		2
strongth of his bowman's bill. And he clopped his rude hand to		3
his eacy hitch and he ordurd and his thick spch spck for her to		4
shut up shop, dappy. And the duppy shot the shutter clup (Per-		5
kodhuskurunbarggruauyagokgorlayorgromgremmitghundhurth-		6
rumathunaradidillifaititillibumullunukkunun!) And they all drank		7
free. For one man in his armour was a fat match always for any		8
girls under shurts. And that was the first peace of illiterative		9
porthery in all the flamend floody flatuous world. How kirssy the		10
tiler made a sweet unclose to the Narwhealian captol. Saw fore		11
shalt thou sea. Betoun ye and be. The prankquean was to hold		12
her dummyship and the jimminies was to keep the peacewave		13
and van Hoother was to git the wind up. Thus the hearsomeness		14
of the burger felicitates the whole of the polis.		15
O foenix culprit! Ex nickylow malo comes mickelmassed bo-		16
num. Hill, rill, ones in company, billeted, less be proud of. Breast		17
high and bestride! Only for that these will not breathe upon		18
Norronesen or Irenean the secrest of their soorcelossness. Quar-		19
ry silex, Homfrie Noanswa! Undy gentian festyknees, Livia No-		20
answa? Wolkencap is on him, frowned; audiurient, he would		21
evesdrip, were it mous at hand, were it dinn of bottles in the far		22
ear. Murk, his vales are darkling. With lipth she lithpeth to him		23
all to time of thuch on thuch and thow on thow. She he she ho		24
she ha to la. Hairfluke, if he could bad twig her! Impalpabunt,		25
he abhears. The soundwaves are his buffeteers; they trompe him		26
with their trompes; the wave of roary and the wave of hooshed		27
and the wave of hawhawhawrd and the wave of neverheedthem-		28
horseluggarsandlisteltomine. Landloughed by his neaghboormis-		29
tress and perpetrified in his offsprung, sabes and suckers, the		30
moaning pipers could tell him to his faceback, the louthly one		31
whose loab we are devorers of, how butt for his hold halibutt, or		32
her to her pudor puff, the lipalip one whose libe we drink at, how		33
biff for her tiddywink of a windfall, our breed and washer givers,		34
there would not be a holey spier on the town nor a vestal flout-		35
ing in the dock, nay to make plein avowels, nor a yew nor an eye		36