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Artahut, stumpstampaded on to a slip of blancovide and headed by an
excessively rough and red woodcut, privately printed at the rimepress of
Delville, soon fluttered its secret on white highway and brown byway to the
rose of the winds and the blew of the gaels, from archway to lattice and
from black hand to pink ear, village crying to village, through the five
pussyfours green of the united states of Scotia Picta--and he who denays it,
may his hairs be rubbed in dirt! To the added strains (so peacifold) of his
majesty the flute, that onecrooned king of inscrewments, Piggott's purest,
ciello alsoliuto, which Mr Delaney (Mr Delacey?), horn, anticipating a
perfect downpour of plaudits among the rapsods, piped out of his decentsoort
hat, looking still more like his purseyful namesake as men of Gaul noted,
but before of to sputabout, the snowycrested curl amoist the leader's wild
and moulting hair, 'Ductor' Hitchcock hoisted his fezzy fuzz at bludgeon's
height signum to his companions of the chalice for the Loud Fellow, boys'
and silentium in curia! (our maypole once more where he rose of old) and the
canto was chantied there chorussed and christened where by the old tollgate,
Saint Annona's Street and Church.
And around the lawn the rann it rann and this is the rann that Hosty
made. Spoken. Boyles and Cahills, Skerretts and Pritchards, viersified and
piersified may the treeth we tale of live in stoney. Here line the refrains
of. Some vote him Vike, some mote him Mike, some dub him Llyn and Phin while
others hail him Lug Bug Dan Lop, Lex, Lax, Gunne or Guinn. Some apt him
Arth, some bapt him Barth, Coll, Noll, Soll, Will, Weel, Wall but I parse
him Persse O'Reilly else he's called no name at all. Together. Arrah, leave
it to Hosty, frosty Hosty, leave it to Hosty for he's the mann to rhyme the
rann, the rann, the rann, the king of all ranns. Have you here? (Some ha)
Have we where? (Some hant) Have you hered? (Others do) Have we whered?
(Others dont) It's cumming, it's brumming! The clip, the clop! (All cla)
Glass crash. The
(klikkaklakkaklaskaklopatzklatschabattacreppycrottygraddaghsemmihsammihnouithappluddyappladdypkonpkot!).
Ardite, arditi!
Music cue
"THE BALLAD OF PERSSE O'REILLY
Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty How he fell with a roll and a
rumble And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple By the butt of the Magazine
Wall,
(Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
Hump, helmet and all?
He was one time our King of the Castle Now he's kicked about like a
rotten old parsnip. And from Green street he'll be sent by order of His
Worship To the penal jail of Mountjoy
(Chorus) To the jail of Mountjoy!
Jail him and joy.
He was fafafather of all schemes for to bother us Slow coaches and
immaculate contraceptives for the populace, Mare's milk for the sick, seven
dry Sundays a week, Openair love and religion's reform,
(Chorus) And religious reform,
Hideous in form.
Arrah, why, says you, couldn't he manage it? I'll go bail, my fine
dairyman darling, Like the bumping bull of the Cassidys All your butter is
in your horns.
(Chorus) His butter is in his horns.
Butter his horns!
(Repeat) Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt
[on ye, Rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns!
Balbaccio, balbuccio! We had chaw chaw chops, chairs, chewing gum, the
chicken
[pox and china chambers Universally provided by this soffsoaping
salesman. Small wonder He'll Cheat E'erawan our local lads nicknamed him
When Chimpden first took the floor
(Chorus) With his bucketshop store
Down Bargainweg, Lower.
So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous But soon we'll bonfire
all his trash, tricks and trumpery And'tis short till sheriff Clancy'll be
winding up his unlimited
[company With the bailiff's bom at the door,
(Chorus) Bimbam at the door.
Then he'll bum no more.
Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island The hooker of that
hammerfast viking And Gall's curse on the day when Eblana bay Saw his black
and tan man-o'-war.
(Chorus) Saw his man-o'-war.
On the harbour bar.
Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls Donnez
[moi scampitle, wick an wipin'fampiny Fingal Mac Oscar Onesine
Bargearse Boniface Thok's min gammelhole Norveegickers moniker Og as ay are
at gammelhore Norveegickers cod.
(Chorus) A Norwegian camel old cod.
He is, begod.
Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! up with the rann, the rhyming
[rann!
It was during some fresh water garden pumping Or, according to the
Nursing Mirror, while admiring the mon
[keys That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey Made bold a maid to woo
(Chorus) Woohoo, what'll she doo!
The general lost her maidenloo!
He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher, For to go
and shove himself that way on top of her. Begob, he's the crux of the
catalogue Of our antediluvial zoo,
(Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
Noah's larks, good as noo.
He was joulting by Wellinton's monument Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus And he caught his
death of fusiliers,
(Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
Give him six years.
'Tis sore pity for his innocent poor children But look out for his
missus legitimate! When that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker Won't there
be earwigs on the green?
(Chorus) Big earwigs on the green,
The largest ever you seen.
Suffoclose! Shikespower! Seudodanto! Anonymoses!
Then we'll have a free trade Gaels' band and mass meeting For to sod
the brave son of Scandiknavery. And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown Along
with the devil and Danes,
(Chorus) With the deaf and dumb Danes,
And all their remains.
And not all the king's men nor his horses Will resurrect his corpus For
there's no true spell in Connacht or hell
(bis) That's able to raise a Cain.
Chest Cee! 'Sdense! Corpo di barragio! you spoof of visibility in a
freakfog, of mixed sex cases among goats hill cat and plain mousey, Bigamy
Bob and his old Shanvocht! The Blackfriars treacle plaster outrage be
liddled! Therewith was released in that kingsrick of Humidia a poisoning
volume of cloud barrage indeed. Yet all they who heard or redelivered are
now with that family of bards and Vergobretas himself and the crowd of
Caraculacticors as much no more as be they not yet now or had they then
notever been. Canbe in some future we shall presently here amid those zouave
players of Inkermann the mime mumming the mick and his nick miming their
maggies, Hilton St Just (Mr Frank Smith), Ivanne Ste Austelle (Mr J. F.
Jones), Coleman of Lucan taking four parts, a choir of the O'Daley O'Doyles
doublesixing the chorus in Fenn Mac Call and the Serven Feeries of Loch
Neach, Galloper Troppler and Hurleyquinn the zitherer of the past with his
merrymen all, zimzim, zimzim. Of the persins sin this Eyrawyggla saga
(which, thorough readable to int from and, is from tubb to buttom all
falsetissues, antilibellous and nonactionable and this applies to its whole
wholume) of poor Osti-Fosti, described as quite a musical genius in a small
way and the owner of an exceedingly niced ear, with tenorist voice to match,
not alone, but a very major poet of the poorly meritary order (he began
Tuonisonian but worked his passage up as far as the we-allhang-together
Animandovites) no one end is known. If they whistled him before he had
curtains up they are whistling him still after his curtain's doom's doom. Ei
f--. His husband, poor old A'Hara (Okaroff?) crestfallen by things and down
at heels at the time, they squeak, accepted the (Zassnoch!) ardree's
shilling at the conclusion of the Crimean war and, having flown his wild
geese, alohned in crowds to warnder on like Shuley Luney, enlisted in
Tyrone's horse, the Irish whites, and soldiered a bit with Wolsey under the
assumed name of Blanco Fusilovna Bucklovitch (spurious) after which the
cawer and the marble halls of Pump Court Columbarium, the home of the old
seakings, looked upon each other and queth their haven evermore for it
transpires that on the other side of the water it came about that on the
field of Vasileff's Cornix inauspiciously with his unit he perished, saying,
this papal leafless to old chap give, rawl chawclates for mouther-in-louth.
Booil. Poor old dear Paul Horan, to satisfy his literary as well as his
criminal aspirations, at the suggestion thrown out by the doomster in
loquacity lunacy, so says the Dublin Intelligence, was thrown into a
Ridley's for inmates in the northern counties. Under the name of Orani he
may have been the utility man of the troupe capable of sustaining long parts
at short notice. He was. Sordid Sam, a dour decent deblancer, the unwashed,
haunted always by his ham, the unwished, at a word from Israfel the
Summoner, passed away painlessly after life's upsomdowns one hallowe'en
night, ebbrous and in the state of nature, propelled from Behind into the
great Beyond by footblows coulinclouted upon his oyster and atlas on
behanged and behooved and behicked and behulked of his last fishandblood
bedscrappers, a Northwegian and his mate of the Sheawolving class. Though
the last straw glimt his baring this stage thunkhard is said (the pitfallen
gagged him as 'Promptboxer') to have solemnly said -- as had the brief thot
but fell in till his head like a bass dropt neck fust in till a bung crate
(cogged!): Me drames, O'Loughlins, has come through! Now let the centuple
celves of my egourge as Micholas de Cusack calls them, -- of all of whose I
in my hereinafter of course by recourse demission me -- by the coincidance
of their contraries reamalgamerge in that indentity of undiscernibles where
the Baxters and the Fleshmans may they cease to bidivil uns and (but at this
poingt though the iron thrust of his cockspurt start might have prepared us
we are wellnigh stinkpotthered by the mustardpunge in the tailend) this
outandin brown candlestock melt Nolan's into peese! Han var. Disliken as he
was to druriodrama, her wife Langley, the prophet, and the decentest
dozendest short of a frusker whoever stuck his spickle through his spoke,
disappeared, (in which toodooing he has taken all the French leaves
unveilable out of Calomnequiller's Pravities) from the sourface of this
earth, that austral plain he had transmaried himself to, so entirely
spoorlessly (the mother of the book with a dustwhisk tabularasing his
obliteration done upon her involucrum) as to tickle the speculative to all
but opine (since the Levey who might have been Langley may have really been
a redivivus of paganinism or a volunteer Vousden) that the hobo (who
possessed a large amount of the humoresque) had transtuled his funster's
latitat to its finsterest interrimost. Bhi she. Again, if Father San Browne,
tea and toaster to that quaintesttest of yarnspinners is Padre Don Bruno,
treu and troster to the queen of Iar-Spain, was the reverend, the sodality
director, that eupeptic viceflayer, a barefaced carmelite,to whose
palpitating pulpit (which of us but remembers the rarevalent and hornerable
Fratomistor Nawlanmore and Brawne.) sinning society sirens (see the [Roman
Catholic] presspassim) fortunately became so enthusiastically attached and
was an objectionable ass who very occasionally cockaded a raffles ticket on
his hat which he wore all to one side like the hangle of his pan (if Her
Elegance saw him she'd have the canary!) and was semiprivately convicted of
malpractices with his hotwashed tableknife (glossing over the cark in his
pocket) that same snob of the dunhill, fully several yearschaums riper,
encountered by the General on that redletter morning or maynoon jovesday and
were they? Fuitfuit.
When Phishlin Phil wants throws his lip 'tis pholly to be fortune
flonting and whoever's gone to mix Hotel by the salt say water there's nix
to nothing we can do for he's never again to sea. It is nebuless an
autodidact fact of the commonest that the shape of the average human
cloudyphiz, whereas sallow has long daze faded, frequently altered its ego
with the possing of the showers (Not original!). Whence it is a slopperish
matter, given the wet and low visibility (since in this scherzarade of one's
thousand one nightinesses that sword of certainty which would indentifide
the body never falls) to idendifine the individuone in scratch wig,
squarecuts, stock lavaleer, regattable oxeter, baggy pants and shufflers (he
is often alluded to as Slypatrick, the llad in the llane) with already an
incipience (lust!) in the direction of area baldness (one is continually
firstmeeting with odd sorts of others at all sorts of ages!) who was asked
by free boardschool shirkers in drenched coats overawall, Will, Conn and
Otto, to tell them overagait, Vol, Pov and Dev, that fishabed ghoatstory of
the haardly creditable edventyres of the Haberdasher, the two Curchies and
the three Enkelchums in their Bearskin ghoats! Girles and jongers,but he has
changed alok syne Thorkill's time! Ya, da, tra, gathery, pimp, shesses,
shossafat, okodeboko, nine! Those many warts, those slummy patches,
halfsinster wrinkles, (what has come over the face on wholebroader E?), and
(shrine of Mount Mu save us!) the large fungopark he has grown! Drink!
Sport's a common thing. It was the Lord's own day for damp (to wait for
a postponed regatta's eventualising is not of Battlecock Shettledore --
Juxta -- Mare only) and the request for a fully armed explanation was put
(in Loo of Pat) to the porty (a native of the sisterisle -- Meathman or
Meccan? -- by his brogue, exrace eyes, lokil calour and lucal odour which
are said to have been average clownturkish (though the capelist's voiced
nasal liquids and the way he sneezed at zees haul us back to the craogs and
bryns of the Silurian Ordovices) who, the lesser pilgrimage accomplished,
had made, pats' and pigs' older inselt, the southeast bluffs of the stranger
stepshore, a regifugium persecutorum, hence hindquarters) as he paused at
evenchime for some or so minutes (hit the pipe dannyboy! Time to won,
barmon. I'll take ten to win.) amid the devil's one duldrum (Apple by her
blossom window and Charlotte at her toss panomancy his sole admirers, his
only tearts in store) for a fragrend culubosh during his weekend pastime of
executing with Anny Oakley deadliness (the consummatory pairs of
provocatives, of which remained provokingly but two, the ones he fell for,
Lili and Tutu, cork em!) empties which had not very long before contained
Reid's family (you ruad that before, soaky, but all the bottles in sodemd
histry will not soften your bloodathirst!) stout. Having reprimed his
repeater and resiteroomed his timespiece His Revenances, with still a life
or two to spare for the space of his occupancy of a world at a time, rose to
his feet and there, far from Tolkaheim, in a quiet English garden
(commonplace!), since known as Whiddington Wild, his simple intensive
curolent vocality, my dearbraithers, my most dearbrathairs, as he, so is a
supper as is a sipper, spake of the One and told of the Compassionate,
called up before the triad of precoxious scaremakers (scoretaking: Spegulo
ne helpas al malbellulo, Mi Kredas ke vi estas prava, Via dote la vizago
rispondas fraulino) the now to ushere mythical habiliments of Our Farfar and
Arthor of our doyne.
Television kills telephony in brothers' broil. Our eyes demand their
turn. Let them be seen! And wolfbone balefires blaze the trailmost if only
that Mary Nothing may burst her bibby buckshee. When they set fire then
she's got to glow so we may stand some chances of warming to what every
soorkabatcha, tum or hum, would like to know. The first Humphrey's
latitudinous baver with puggaree behind, (calaboose belong bigboss belong
Kang the Toll) his fourinhand bow, his elbaroom surtout, the refaced
unmansionables of gingerine hue, the state slate umbrella, his gruff
woolselywellesly with the finndrinn knopfs and the gauntlet upon the hand
which in an hour not for him solely evil had struck down the might he
mighthavebeen d'Esterre of whom his nation seemed almost already to be about
to have need. Then, stealing his thunder, but in the befitting legomena of
the smaller country, (probable words, possibly said, of field family
gleaming) a bit duskish and flavoured with a smile, seein as ow his thoughts
consisted chiefly of the cheerio, he aptly sketched for our soontobe second
parents (sukand see whybe!) the touching seene. The solence of that
stilling! Here one might a fin fell. Boomster rombombonant! It scenes like a
landescape from Wildu Picturescu or some seem on some dimb Arras, dumb as
Mum's mutyness, this mimage of the seventyseventh kusin of kristansen is
odable to os across the wineless Ere no oedor nor mere eerie nor liss potent
of suggestion than in the tales of the tingmount. (Prigged !)
And there oftafter, jauntyjogging, on an Irish visavis, insteadily with
shoulder to shoulder Jehu will tell to Christianier, saint to sage, the
humphriad of that fall and rise while daisy winks at her pinker sister among
the tussocks and the copoll between the shafts mocks the couple on the car.
And as your who may look like how on the owther side of his big belttry your
tyrs and cloes your noes and paradigm maymay rererise in eren. Follow we up
his whip vindicative. Thurston's! Lo bebold! La arboro, lo petrusu. The
augustan peacebetothem oaks, the monolith rising stark from the moonlit
pinebarren. In all fortitudinous ajaxious rowdinoisy tenuacity. The angelus
hour with ditchers bent upon their farm usetensiles, the soft belling of the
fallow deers (doerehmoose genuane!) advertising their milky approach as
midnight was striking the hours (letate!), and how brightly the great
tribune outed the sharkskin smokewallet (imitation!) from his frock,
kippers, and by Joshua, he tips un a topping swank cheroot, none of your
swellish soide, quoit the reverse, and how manfally he says, pluk to pluk
and lekan for lukan, he was to just pluggy well suck that brown boyo, my
son, and spend a whole half hour in Havana. Sorer of the kreeksmen, would
not thore be old high gothsprogue! Wherefore he met Master, he mean to say,
he do, sire, bester of redpublicans, at Eagle Cock Hostel on Lorenzo Tooley
street and how he wished his Honour the bannocks of Gort and Morya and Bri
Head and Puddyrick, yore Loudship, and a starchboxsitting in the pit of his
St Tomach's, -- a strange wish for you, my friend, and it would poleaxe your
sonson's grandson utterly though your own old sweatandswear floruerunts
heaved it hoch many as the times, when they were turrified by the hitz.
Chee chee cheers for Upkingbilly and crow cru cramwells Downaboo! Hup,
boys, and hat him! See! Oilbeam they're lost we've fount rerembrandtsers,
their hours to date link these heirs to here but wowhere are those yours of
Yestersdays? Farseeingetherich and Poolaulwoman Charachthercuss and his Ann
van Vogt. D.e.e.d! Edned, ended or sleeping soundlessly? Favour with your
tongues! Intendite!
Any dog's life you list you may still hear them at it, like sixes and
seventies as eversure as Halley's comet, ulemamen, sobranjewomen,
storthingboys and dumagirls, as they pass its bleak and bronze portal of
your Casaconcordia: Huru more Nee, minny frickans? Hwoorledes har Dee de*
Losdoor onleft mladies, cue. Millecientotrigintadue scudi. Tippoty, kyrie,
tippoty. Cha kai rotty kai makkar, sahib? Despenseme Usted, senhor, en son
succo, sabez. O thaw bron orm, A'Cothraige, thinkinthou gaily?
Lick-Pa-flai-hai-pa-Pa-li-si-lang-lang. Epi alo, ecou, Batiste, tuvavnr dans
Lptit boing going. Ismeme de bumbac e meias de portocallie. O.O. Os pipos
mios es demasiada gruarso por O piccolo pocchino. Wee fee? Ung duro.
Kocshis, szabad? Mercy, and you? Gomagh, thak.
And, Cod, says he with mugger's tears: Would you care to know the prise
of a liard? Maggis, nick your nightynovel! Mass Travener's at the mike
again! And that bag belly is the buck to goat it! Meggeg, m'gay chapjappy
fellow, I call our univalse to witness, as sicker as moyliffey eggs is known
by our good househalters from yorehunderts of mamooth to be which they
commercially are in ahoy high British quarters (conventional!) my guesthouse
and cowhaendel credits will immediately stand ohoh open as straight as that
neighbouring monument's fabrication before the hygienic gllll (this was
where the reverent sabboth and bottlebreaker with firbalk forthstretched
touched upon his tricoloured boater, which he uplifted by its pickledhoopy
(he gave Stetson one and a penny for it) whileas oleaginosity of
ancestralolosis sgocciolated down the both pendencies of his mutsohito
liptails (Sencapetulo, a more modestuous conciliabulite never curled a tom
pocketmouth), cordially inwiting the adullescence who he was wising up to do
in like manner what all did so as he was able to add) lobe before the Great
Schoolmaster's. (I tell you no story.) Smile!
The house of Atreox is fallen indeedust (Ilyam, Ilyum! Maeromor
Mournomates !) averging on blight like the mundibanks of Fennyana, but deeds
bounds going arise again. Life, he himself said once, (his biografiend, in
fact, kills him verysoon, if yet not, after) is a wake, livit or krikit, and
on the bunk of our breadwinning lies the cropse of our seedfather, a phrase
which the establisher of the world by law might pretinately write across the
chestfront of all manorwombanborn. The scene, refreshed, reroused, was never
to be forgotten, the hen and crusader everintermutuomergent, for later in
the century one of that puisne band of factferreters, (then an excivily (out
of the custom huts) (retired), (hurt), under the sixtyfives act) in a dressy
black modern style and wewere shiny tan burlingtons, (tam, homd and dicky,
quopriquos and peajagd) rehearsed it, pippa pointing, with a dignified
(copied) bow to a namecousin of the late archdeacon F. X. Preserved
Coppinger (a hot fellow in his night, may the mouther of guard have mastic
on him!) in a pullwoman of our first transhibernian with one still sadder
circumstance which is a dirkandurk heartskewerer if ever to bring bouncing
brimmers from marbled eyes. Cycloptically through the windowdisks and with
eddying awes the round eyes of the rundreisers,back to back, buck to bucker,
on their airish chaunting car, beheld with intouristing anterestedness the
clad pursue the bare, the bare the green, the green the frore, the frore the
cladagain, as their convoy wheeled encirculingly abound the gigantig's
lifetree, our fireleaved loverlucky blomsterbohm, phoenix in our
woodlessness, haughty, cacuminal, erubescent (repetition!) whose roots they
be asches with lustres of peins. For as often as the Archicadenus, pleacing
aside his Irish Field and craving their auriculars to recepticle particulars
before they got the bump at Castlebar (mat and far!) spoke of it by request
all, hearing in this new reading of the part whereby, because of Dyas in his
machina, the new garrickson's grimacing grimaldism hypostasised by
substintuation the axiomatic orerotundity of that once grand old elrington
bawl, the copycus's description of that fellowcommuter's play upon
countenants, could simply imagine themselves in their bosom's inmost core,
as pro tem locums, timesported acorss the yawning (abyss), as once they were
seasiders, listening to the cockshyshooter's evensong evocation of the
doomed but always ventriloquent Agitator, (nonot more plangorpound the
billows o'er Thounawahallya Reef!) silkhouatted, a whallrhosmightiadd,
aginsst the dusk of skumring, (would that fane be Saint Muezzin's calling --
holy places ! -- and this fez brimless as brow of faithful toucher of the
ground, did wish it were -- blessed be the bones ! -- the ghazi, power of
his sword.) his manslayer's gunwielder protended towards that overgrown
leadpencil which was soon, monumentally at least, to rise as Molyvdokondylon
to, to be, to be his mausoleum (O'dan stod tillsteyne at meisies aye skould
show pon) while olover his exculpatory features, as Roland rung, a wee
dropeen of grief about to sillonise his jouejous, the ghost of resignation
diffused a spectral appealingness, as a young man's drown o'er the fate of
his waters may gloat, similar in origin and akkurat in effective to a beam
of sunshine upon a coffin plate.
Not olderwise Inn the days of the Bygning would our Traveller remote,
unfriended, from van Demon's Land, some lazy skald or maundering pote, lift
wearywilly his slowcut snobsic eyes to the semisigns of his zooteac and
lengthily lingering along flaskneck, cracket cup, downtrodden brogue,
turfsod, wildbroom, cabbageblad, stockfisch, longingly learn that there at
the Angel were herberged for him poteen and tea and praties and baccy and
wine width woman wordth warbling: and informally quasi-begin to
presquesm'ile to queasithin' (Nonsense! There was not very much windy Nous
blowing at the given moment through the hat of Mr Melancholy Slow!)
But in the pragma what formal cause made a smile of that tothink? Who
was he to whom? (O'Breen's not his name nor the brown one his maid.) Whose
are the placewheres? Kiwasti, kisker, kither, kitnabudja? Tal the tem of the
tumulum. Giv the gav of the grube. Be it cudgelplayers' country,
orfishfellows' town or leeklickers' land or panbpanungopovengreskey. What
regnans raised the rains have levelled but we hear the pointers and can
gauge their compass for the melos yields the mode and the mode the manners
plicyman, plansiman, plousiman, plab. Tsin tsin tsin tsin! The forefarther
folkers for a prize of two peaches with Ming, Ching and Shunny on the lie
low lea. We'll sit down on the hope of the ghouly ghost for the titheman
troubleth but his hantitat hies not here. They answer from their Zoans; Hear
the four of them! Hark torroar of them! I, says Armagh, and a'm proud o'it.
I, says Clonakilty, God help us! I, says Deansgrange, and say nothing. I,
says Barna, and whatabout it? Hee haw! Before he fell hill he filled heaven:
a stream, alplapping streamlet, coyly coiled um, cool of her curls: We were
but thermites then, wee, wee. Our antheap we sensed as a Hill of Allen, the
Barrow for an People, one Jotnursfjaell: and it was a grummelung amung the
porktroop that wonderstruck us as a thunder, yunder.
Thus the unfacts, did we possess them, are too imprecisely few to
warrant our certitude, the evidencegivers by legpoll too untrustworthily
irreperible where his adjugers are semmingly freak threes but his
judicandees plainly minus twos. Nevertheless Madam's Toshowus waxes largely
more lifeliked (entrance, one kudos; exits, free) and our notional gullery
is now completely complacent, an exegious monument, aerily perennious.
Oblige with your blackthorns; gamps, degrace! And there many have paused
before that exposure of him by old Tom Quad, a flashback in which he sits
sated, gowndabout, in clericalease habit, watching bland sol slithe
dodgsomely into the nethermore, a globule of maugdleness about to
corrugitate his mild dewed cheek and the tata of a tiny victorienne, Alys,
pressed by his limper looser.
Yet certes one is. Eher the following winter had overed the pages of
nature's book and till Ceadurbar-atta-Cleath became Dablena Tertia, the
shadow of the huge outlander, maladik, multvult, magnoperous, had bulked at
the bar of a rota of tribunals in manor hall as in thieves' kitchen, mid
pillow talk and chithouse chat, on Marlborough Green as through Molesworth
Fields, here sentenced pro tried with Jedburgh justice, there acquitted
contestimony with benefit of clergy. His Thing Mod have undone him: and his
madthing has done him man. His beneficiaries are legion in the part he
created: they number up his years. Greatwheel Dunlop was the name was on
him: behung, all we are his bisaacles. As hollyday in his house so was he
priest and king to that: ulvy came, envy saw, ivy conquered. Lou ! Lou! They
have waved his green boughs o'er him as they have torn him limb from lamb.
For his muertification and uxpiration and dumnation and annuhulation. With
schreis and grida, deprofound souspirs. Steady, sullivans! Mannequins pause!
Longtong's breach is fallen down but Graunya's spreed's abroad. Ahdostay,
feedailyones, and feel the Flucher's bawls for the total of your flouts is
not fit to fan his fettle,O! Have a ring and sing wohl! Chin, chin! Chin,
chin! And of course all chimed din width the eatmost boviality. Swiping rums
and beaunes and sherries and ciders and negus and citronnades too. The
strongers. Oho, oho, Mester Begge, you're about to be bagged in the bog
again. Bugge. But softsies seufsighed: Eheu, for gassies! But, lo! lo! by
the threnning gods, human, erring and condonable, what the statues of our
kuo, who is the messchef be our kuang, ashu ashure there, the unforgettable
treeshade looms up behind the jostling judgements of those, as all should
owe, malrecapturable days.
Tap and pat and tapatagain, (fire firstshot, Missiers the Refuseleers!
Peingpeong! For saxonlootie!) three tommix, soldiers free, cockaleak and
cappapee, of the Coldstream. Guards were walking, in (pardonnez-leur, je
vous en prie, eh?) Montgomery Street. One voiced an opinion in which on
either wide (pardonnez!), nodding, all the Finner Camps concurred (je vous
en prie, eh?). It was the first woman, they said, souped him, that fatal
wellesday, Lili Coninghams, by suggesting him they go in a field. Wroth mod
eldfar, ruth redd stilstand, wrath wrackt wroth, confessed private Pat
Marchison retro. (Terse!) Thus contenters with santoys play. One of our
coming Vauxhall ontheboards who is resting for the moment (she has been
callit by a noted stagey elecutioner a wastepacket Sittons) was interfeud in
a waistend pewty parlour. Looking perhaps even more pewtyflushed in her
cherryderry padouasoys, girdle and braces by the halfmoon and Seven Stars,
russets from the Blackamoor's Head, amongst the climbing boys at his Eagle
and Child and over the corn and hay emptors at their Black and All Black,
Mrs F . . . A . . . saidaside, half in stage of whisper to her confidante
glass, while recoopering her cartwheel chapot (ahat! -- and we now know what
thimbles a baquets on lallance a talls mean), she hoped Sid Arthar would git
a Chrissman's portrout of orange and lemonsized orchids with hollegs and
ether, from the feeatre of the Innocident, as the worryld had been uncained.
Then, while it is odrous comparisoning to the sprangflowers of his burstday
which was a viridable goddinpotty for the reinworms and the charlattinas and
all branches of climatitis, it has been such a wanderful noyth untirely,
added she, with many regards to Maha's pranjapansies. (Tart!) Prehistoric,
obitered to his dictaphone an entychologist: his propenomen is a
properismenon. A dustman nocknamed Sevenchurches in the employ of Messrs
Achburn, Soulpetre and Ashreborn, prairmakers, Glintalook, was asked by the
sisterhood the vexed question during his midday collation of leaver and
buckrom alternatively with stenk and kitteney phie in a hashhoush and,
thankeaven, responsed impulsively: We have just been propogandering his
nullity suit and what they took out of his ear among my own crush. All our
fellows at O'Dea's sages with Aratar Calaman he is a cemented brick, buck it
all! A more nor usually sober cardriver, who was jauntingly hosing his
runabout, Ginger Jane, took a strong view. Lorry hosed her as he talked and
this is what he told rewritemen: Irewaker is just a plain pink joint
reformee in private life but folks all have it by brehemons laws he has
parliamentary honours. Eiskaffier said (Louigi's, you know that man's,
brillant Savourain): Mon foie, you wish to ave some homelette, yes, lady!
Good,mein leber! Your hegg he must break himself See,I crack, so, he sit in
the poele, umbedimbt! A perspirer (over sixty) who was keeping up his
tennises panted he kne ho har twa to clect infamatios but a diffpair
flannels climb wall and trespassing on doorbell. After fullblown Braddon
hear this fresky troterella! A railways barmaid's view (they call her
Spilltears Rue) was thus expressed: to sympathisers of the Dole Line, Death
Avenue,anent those objects of her pity-prompted ministrance, to wet, man and
his syphon. Ehim! It is ever too late to whissle when Phyllis floods her
stable. It would be skarlot shame to jailahim in lockup, as was proposed to
him by the Seddoms creature what matter what merrytricks went off with his
revulverher in connections with ehim being a norphan and enjoining such
wicked illth, ehim! Well done, Drumcollakill! Kitty Tyrrel is proud of you,
was the reply of a B.O.T. official (O blame gnot the board !) while the
Daughters Benkletter murmured in uniswoon: Golforgilhisjurylegs! Brian
Lynsky, the cub curser, was questioned at his shouting box, Bawlonabraggat,
and gave a snappy comeback, when saying: Paw! Once more I'll hellbowl! I am
for caveman chase and sahara sex, burk you! Them two bitches ought to be
leashed, canem! Up hog and hoar hunt! Paw! A wouldbe martyr, who is
attending on sanit Asitas where he is being taught to wear bracelets, when
grilled on the point, revealed the undoubted fact that the consequence would
be that so long as Sankya Moondy played his mango tricks under the
mysttetry, with shady apsaras sheltering in his leaves' licence and his
shadowers torrifried by the potent bolts of indradiction, there would be
fights all over Cuxhaven. (Tosh!) Missioner Ida Wombwell, the
seventeenyearold revivalist, said concerning the coincident of interfizzing
with grenadines and other respectable and disgusted peersons using the park:
That perpendicular person is a brut! But a magnificent brut! 'Caligula' (Mr
Danl Magrath, bookmaker, wellknown to Eastrailian poorusers of the Sydney
Parade Ballotin) was, as usual, antipodal with his: striving todie, hopening
tomellow, Ware Splash. Cobbler. We have meat two hourly, sang out El Caplan
Buycout, with the famous padre's turridur's capecast, meet too ourly,
matadear! Dan Meiklejohn, precentor, of S.S. Smack and Olley's was
probiverbal with his upsiduxit: mutatus mutandus. Dauran's lord ('Sniffpox')
and Moirgan's lady ('Flatterfun') took sides and crossed and bowed to each
other's views and recrossed themselves. The dirty dubs upin their flies,
went too free, echoed the dainly drabs downin their scenities, una mona.
Sylvia Silence, the girl detective (Meminerva, but by now one hears
turtlings all over Doveland!) when supplied with informations as to the
several facets of the case in her cozydozy bachelure's flat, quite
overlooking John a'Dream's mews, leaned back in her really truly easy chair
to query restfully through her vowelthreaded syllabelles: Have you evew
thought, wepowtew, that sheew gweatness was his twadgedy? Nevewtheless
accowding to my considewed attitudes fow this act he should pay the full
penalty, pending puwsuance, as pew Subsec. 32, section II, of the C. L. A.
act 1885, anything in this act to the contwawy notwithstanding. Jarley Jilke
began to silke for he couldn't get home to Jelsey but ended with: He's got
the sack that helped him moult instench of his gladsome rags. Meagher, a
naval rating, seated on one of the granite cromlech setts of our new
fishshambles for the usual aireating after the ever popular act, with whom
were Questa and Puella, piquante and quoite, (this had a cold in her brain
while that felt a sink in her summock, wit's wat, wot's wet) was encouraged,
although nearvanashed himself, by one of his co-affianced to get your
breath, Walt, and gobbit and when ther chidden by her fastra sastra to
saddle up your pance, Naville, thus cor replied to her other's
thankskissing: I lay my two fingerbuttons, fiancee Meagher, (he speaks!) he
was to blame about your two velvetthighs up Horniman's Hill -- as hook and
eye blame him or any other piscman? -- but I also think, Puellywally, by the
siege of his trousers there was someone else behind it -- you bet your
boughtem blarneys -- about their three drummers down Keysars Lane. (Trite!).
Be these meer marchant taylor's fablings of a race referend with oddman
rex? Is now all seenheard then forgotten? Can it was, one is fain in this
leaden age of letters now to wit, that so diversified outrages (they have
still to come!) were planned and partly carried out against so staunch a
covenanter if it be true than any of those recorded ever took place for
many, we trow, beyessed to and denayed of, are given to us by some who use
the truth but sparingly and we, on this side ought to sorrow for their
pricking pens on that account. The seventh city, Urovivla, his citadear of
refuge, whither (would we believe the laimen and their counts), beyond the
outraved gales of Atreeatic, changing clues with a baggermalster, the
hejirite had fled, silentioussuemeant under night's altosonority, shipalone,
a raven of the wave, (be mercy, Mara! A he whence Rahoulas!) from the
ostmen's dirtby on the old vic, to forget in expiating manslaughter and,
reberthing in remarriment out of dead seekness to devine previdence, (if you
are looking for the bilder deep your ear on the movietone!) to league his
lot, palm and patte, with a papishee. For mine qvinne I thee giftake and
bind my hosenband I thee halter. The wastobe land, a lottuse land, a
luctuous land, Emeraldilluim, the peasant pastured, in which by the fourth
commandment with promise his days apostolic were to be long by the abundant
mercy of Him Which Thundereth From On High, murmured, would rise against him
with all which in them were, franchisables and inhabitands, astea as agora,
helotsphilots, do him hurt, poor jink, ghostly following bodily, as were he
made a curse for them, the corruptible lay quick, all saints of
incorruption-of-an holy nation, the common or ere-in-garden castaway, in red
resurrection to condemn so they might convince him, first pharoah, Humpheres
Cheops Exarchas, of their proper sins. Business bred to speak with a stiff
upper lip to all men and most occasions the Man we wot of took little short
of fighting chances but for all that he or his or his care were subjected to
the horrors of the premier terror of Errorland. (perorhaps!)
We seem to us (the real Us !) to be reading our Amenti in the sixth
sealed chapter of the going forth by black. It was after the show at
Wednesbury that one tall man, humping a suspicious parcel, when returning
late amid a dense particular on his home way from the second house of the
Boore and Burgess Christy Menestrels by the old spot, Roy's Corner, had a
barkiss revolver placed to his faced with the words: you're shot, major: by
an unknowable assailant (masked) against whom he had been jealous over,
Lotta Crabtree or Pomona Evlyn. More than that Whenn the Waylayer (not a
Lucalizod diocesan or even of the Glendalough see, but hailing fro' the prow
of Little Britain), mentioning in a bytheway that he, the crawsopper, had,
in edition to Reade's cutless centiblade, a loaded Hobson's which left only
twin alternatives as, viceversa, either he would surely shoot her, the aunt,
by pistol, (she could be okaysure of that!) or, failing of such, bash in
Patch's blank face beyond recognition, pointedly asked with gaeilish gall
wodkar blizzard's business Thornton had with that Kane's fender only to be
answered by the aggravated assaulted that that that was the snaps for him,
Midweeks, to sultry well go and find out if he was showery well able. But
how transparingly nontrue, gentlewriter ! His feet one is not a tall man,
not at all,man. No such parson. No such fender. No such lumber. No such
race. Was it supposedly in connection with a girls, Myramy Huey or Colores
Archer, under Flaggy Bridge (for ann there is but one liv and hir newbridge
is her old) or to explode his twelvechamber and force a shrievalty entrance
that the heavybuilt Abelbody in a butcherblue blouse from One Life One Suit
(a men's wear store), with a most decisive bottle of single in his
possession, seized after dark by the town guard at Haveyoucaught-emerod's
temperance gateway was there in a gate's way.
Fifthly, how parasoliloquisingly truetoned on his first time of hearing
the wretch's statement that, muttering Irish, he had had had o'gloriously
a'lot too much hanguest or hoshoe fine to drink in the House of Blazes, the
Parrot in Hell, the Orange Tree, the Glibt, the Sun, the Holy Lamb and,
lapse not leashed, in Ramitdown's ship hotel since the morning moment he
could dixtinguish a white thread from a black till the engine of the laws
declosed unto Murray and was only falling fillthefluthered up against the
gatestone pier which, with the cow's bonnet a'top o'it, he falsetook for a
cattlepillar with purest peaceablest intentions. Yet how lamely hobbles the
hoy of his then pseudojocax axplanation how, according to his own story, he
vas a process server and was merely trying to open zozimus a bottlop stoub
by mortially hammering his magnum bonum (the curter the club the sorer the
savage) against the bludgey gate for the boots about the swan,Maurice Behan,
who hastily into his shoes with nothing his hald barra tinnteack and came
down with homp, shtemp and jumphet to the tiltyard from the wastes a'sleep
in his obi ohny overclothes or choker, attracted by the norse of guns
playing Delandy is cartager on the raglar rock to Dulyn, said war' prised
safe in bed as he dreamed that he'd wealthes in mormon halls when wokenp by
a fourth loud snore out of his land of byelo while hickstrey's maws was
grazing in the moonlight by hearing hammering on the pandywhank scale
emanating from the blind pig and anything like it (oonagh!oonagh!) in the
whole history of the Mullingcan Inn he never. This battering babel allower
the door and sideposts, he always said, was not in the very remotest like
the belzey babble of a bottle of boose which would not rouse him out o'
slumber deep but reminded him loads more of the martiallawsey marses of
foreign musikants' instrumongs or the overthrewer to the third last days of
Pompery, if anything. And that after this most nooningless knockturn the
young reine came down desperate and the old liffopotamus started ploring all
over the plains, as mud as she cud be, ruinating all the bouchers' schurts
and the backers' wischandtugs so that be the chandeleure of the
Rejaneyjailey they were all night wasching the walters of, the weltering
walters off. Whyte.
Just one moment. A pinch in time of the ideal, musketeers! Alphos,
Burkos and Caramis, leave Astrelea for the astrollajerries and for the love
of the saunces and the honour of Keavens pike puddywhackback to Pamintul.
And roll away the reel world, the reel world, the reel world! And call all
your smokeblushes, Snowwhite and Rosered, if you will have the real cream!
Now for a strawberry frolic ! Filons, filoosh ! Cherchons la flamme!
Fammfamm! Fammfamm!
Come on, ordinary man with that large big nonobli head, and that blanko
berbecked fischial ekksprezzion Machinsky Scapolopolos, Duzinascu or other.
Your machelar's mutton leg's getting musclebound from being too pulled. Noah
Beery weighed stone thousand one when Hazel was a hen. Now her fat's falling
fast. Therefore, chatbags, why not yours? There are 29 sweet reasons why
blossomtime's the best. Elders fall for green almonds when they're raised on
bruised stone root ginger though it winters on their heads as if auctumned
round their waistbands. If you'd had pains in your hairs you wouldn't look
so orgibald. You'd have Colley Macaires on your lump of lead. Now listen, Mr
Leer! And stow that sweatyfunnyadams Simper! Take an old geeser who calls on
his skirt. Note his sleek hair, so elegant, tableau vivant. He vows her to
be his own honeylamb, swears they will be papa pals, by Sam, and share good
times way down west in a guaranteed happy lovenest when May moon she shines
and they twit twinkle all the night, combing the comet's tail up right and
shooting popguns at the stars. Creampuffs all to dime! Every nice,
missymackenzies! For dear old grumpapar, he's gone on the razzledar, through
excessively rough and red woodcut, privately printed at the rimepress of
Delville, soon fluttered its secret on white highway and brown byway to the
rose of the winds and the blew of the gaels, from archway to lattice and
from black hand to pink ear, village crying to village, through the five
pussyfours green of the united states of Scotia Picta--and he who denays it,
may his hairs be rubbed in dirt! To the added strains (so peacifold) of his
majesty the flute, that onecrooned king of inscrewments, Piggott's purest,
ciello alsoliuto, which Mr Delaney (Mr Delacey?), horn, anticipating a
perfect downpour of plaudits among the rapsods, piped out of his decentsoort
hat, looking still more like his purseyful namesake as men of Gaul noted,
but before of to sputabout, the snowycrested curl amoist the leader's wild
and moulting hair, 'Ductor' Hitchcock hoisted his fezzy fuzz at bludgeon's
height signum to his companions of the chalice for the Loud Fellow, boys'
and silentium in curia! (our maypole once more where he rose of old) and the
canto was chantied there chorussed and christened where by the old tollgate,
Saint Annona's Street and Church.
And around the lawn the rann it rann and this is the rann that Hosty
made. Spoken. Boyles and Cahills, Skerretts and Pritchards, viersified and
piersified may the treeth we tale of live in stoney. Here line the refrains
of. Some vote him Vike, some mote him Mike, some dub him Llyn and Phin while
others hail him Lug Bug Dan Lop, Lex, Lax, Gunne or Guinn. Some apt him
Arth, some bapt him Barth, Coll, Noll, Soll, Will, Weel, Wall but I parse
him Persse O'Reilly else he's called no name at all. Together. Arrah, leave
it to Hosty, frosty Hosty, leave it to Hosty for he's the mann to rhyme the
rann, the rann, the rann, the king of all ranns. Have you here? (Some ha)
Have we where? (Some hant) Have you hered? (Others do) Have we whered?
(Others dont) It's cumming, it's brumming! The clip, the clop! (All cla)
Glass crash. The
(klikkaklakkaklaskaklopatzklatschabattacreppycrottygraddaghsemmihsammihnouithappluddyappladdypkonpkot!).
Ardite, arditi!
Music cue
"THE BALLAD OF PERSSE O'REILLY
Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty How he fell with a roll and a
rumble And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple By the butt of the Magazine
Wall,
(Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
Hump, helmet and all?
He was one time our King of the Castle Now he's kicked about like a
rotten old parsnip. And from Green street he'll be sent by order of His
Worship To the penal jail of Mountjoy
(Chorus) To the jail of Mountjoy!
Jail him and joy.
He was fafafather of all schemes for to bother us Slow coaches and
immaculate contraceptives for the populace, Mare's milk for the sick, seven
dry Sundays a week, Openair love and religion's reform,
(Chorus) And religious reform,
Hideous in form.
Arrah, why, says you, couldn't he manage it? I'll go bail, my fine
dairyman darling, Like the bumping bull of the Cassidys All your butter is
in your horns.
(Chorus) His butter is in his horns.
Butter his horns!
(Repeat) Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt
[on ye, Rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns!
Balbaccio, balbuccio! We had chaw chaw chops, chairs, chewing gum, the
chicken
[pox and china chambers Universally provided by this soffsoaping
salesman. Small wonder He'll Cheat E'erawan our local lads nicknamed him
When Chimpden first took the floor
(Chorus) With his bucketshop store
Down Bargainweg, Lower.
So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous But soon we'll bonfire
all his trash, tricks and trumpery And'tis short till sheriff Clancy'll be
winding up his unlimited
[company With the bailiff's bom at the door,
(Chorus) Bimbam at the door.
Then he'll bum no more.
Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island The hooker of that
hammerfast viking And Gall's curse on the day when Eblana bay Saw his black
and tan man-o'-war.
(Chorus) Saw his man-o'-war.
On the harbour bar.
Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls Donnez
[moi scampitle, wick an wipin'fampiny Fingal Mac Oscar Onesine
Bargearse Boniface Thok's min gammelhole Norveegickers moniker Og as ay are
at gammelhore Norveegickers cod.
(Chorus) A Norwegian camel old cod.
He is, begod.
Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! up with the rann, the rhyming
[rann!
It was during some fresh water garden pumping Or, according to the
Nursing Mirror, while admiring the mon
[keys That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey Made bold a maid to woo
(Chorus) Woohoo, what'll she doo!
The general lost her maidenloo!
He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher, For to go
and shove himself that way on top of her. Begob, he's the crux of the
catalogue Of our antediluvial zoo,
(Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
Noah's larks, good as noo.
He was joulting by Wellinton's monument Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus And he caught his
death of fusiliers,
(Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
Give him six years.
'Tis sore pity for his innocent poor children But look out for his
missus legitimate! When that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker Won't there
be earwigs on the green?
(Chorus) Big earwigs on the green,
The largest ever you seen.
Suffoclose! Shikespower! Seudodanto! Anonymoses!
Then we'll have a free trade Gaels' band and mass meeting For to sod
the brave son of Scandiknavery. And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown Along
with the devil and Danes,
(Chorus) With the deaf and dumb Danes,
And all their remains.
And not all the king's men nor his horses Will resurrect his corpus For
there's no true spell in Connacht or hell
(bis) That's able to raise a Cain.
Chest Cee! 'Sdense! Corpo di barragio! you spoof of visibility in a
freakfog, of mixed sex cases among goats hill cat and plain mousey, Bigamy
Bob and his old Shanvocht! The Blackfriars treacle plaster outrage be
liddled! Therewith was released in that kingsrick of Humidia a poisoning
volume of cloud barrage indeed. Yet all they who heard or redelivered are
now with that family of bards and Vergobretas himself and the crowd of
Caraculacticors as much no more as be they not yet now or had they then
notever been. Canbe in some future we shall presently here amid those zouave
players of Inkermann the mime mumming the mick and his nick miming their
maggies, Hilton St Just (Mr Frank Smith), Ivanne Ste Austelle (Mr J. F.
Jones), Coleman of Lucan taking four parts, a choir of the O'Daley O'Doyles
doublesixing the chorus in Fenn Mac Call and the Serven Feeries of Loch
Neach, Galloper Troppler and Hurleyquinn the zitherer of the past with his
merrymen all, zimzim, zimzim. Of the persins sin this Eyrawyggla saga
(which, thorough readable to int from and, is from tubb to buttom all
falsetissues, antilibellous and nonactionable and this applies to its whole
wholume) of poor Osti-Fosti, described as quite a musical genius in a small
way and the owner of an exceedingly niced ear, with tenorist voice to match,
not alone, but a very major poet of the poorly meritary order (he began
Tuonisonian but worked his passage up as far as the we-allhang-together
Animandovites) no one end is known. If they whistled him before he had
curtains up they are whistling him still after his curtain's doom's doom. Ei
f--. His husband, poor old A'Hara (Okaroff?) crestfallen by things and down
at heels at the time, they squeak, accepted the (Zassnoch!) ardree's
shilling at the conclusion of the Crimean war and, having flown his wild
geese, alohned in crowds to warnder on like Shuley Luney, enlisted in
Tyrone's horse, the Irish whites, and soldiered a bit with Wolsey under the
assumed name of Blanco Fusilovna Bucklovitch (spurious) after which the
cawer and the marble halls of Pump Court Columbarium, the home of the old
seakings, looked upon each other and queth their haven evermore for it
transpires that on the other side of the water it came about that on the
field of Vasileff's Cornix inauspiciously with his unit he perished, saying,
this papal leafless to old chap give, rawl chawclates for mouther-in-louth.
Booil. Poor old dear Paul Horan, to satisfy his literary as well as his
criminal aspirations, at the suggestion thrown out by the doomster in
loquacity lunacy, so says the Dublin Intelligence, was thrown into a
Ridley's for inmates in the northern counties. Under the name of Orani he
may have been the utility man of the troupe capable of sustaining long parts
at short notice. He was. Sordid Sam, a dour decent deblancer, the unwashed,
haunted always by his ham, the unwished, at a word from Israfel the
Summoner, passed away painlessly after life's upsomdowns one hallowe'en
night, ebbrous and in the state of nature, propelled from Behind into the
great Beyond by footblows coulinclouted upon his oyster and atlas on
behanged and behooved and behicked and behulked of his last fishandblood
bedscrappers, a Northwegian and his mate of the Sheawolving class. Though
the last straw glimt his baring this stage thunkhard is said (the pitfallen
gagged him as 'Promptboxer') to have solemnly said -- as had the brief thot
but fell in till his head like a bass dropt neck fust in till a bung crate
(cogged!): Me drames, O'Loughlins, has come through! Now let the centuple
celves of my egourge as Micholas de Cusack calls them, -- of all of whose I
in my hereinafter of course by recourse demission me -- by the coincidance
of their contraries reamalgamerge in that indentity of undiscernibles where
the Baxters and the Fleshmans may they cease to bidivil uns and (but at this
poingt though the iron thrust of his cockspurt start might have prepared us
we are wellnigh stinkpotthered by the mustardpunge in the tailend) this
outandin brown candlestock melt Nolan's into peese! Han var. Disliken as he
was to druriodrama, her wife Langley, the prophet, and the decentest
dozendest short of a frusker whoever stuck his spickle through his spoke,
disappeared, (in which toodooing he has taken all the French leaves
unveilable out of Calomnequiller's Pravities) from the sourface of this
earth, that austral plain he had transmaried himself to, so entirely
spoorlessly (the mother of the book with a dustwhisk tabularasing his
obliteration done upon her involucrum) as to tickle the speculative to all
but opine (since the Levey who might have been Langley may have really been
a redivivus of paganinism or a volunteer Vousden) that the hobo (who
possessed a large amount of the humoresque) had transtuled his funster's
latitat to its finsterest interrimost. Bhi she. Again, if Father San Browne,
tea and toaster to that quaintesttest of yarnspinners is Padre Don Bruno,
treu and troster to the queen of Iar-Spain, was the reverend, the sodality
director, that eupeptic viceflayer, a barefaced carmelite,to whose
palpitating pulpit (which of us but remembers the rarevalent and hornerable
Fratomistor Nawlanmore and Brawne.) sinning society sirens (see the [Roman
Catholic] presspassim) fortunately became so enthusiastically attached and
was an objectionable ass who very occasionally cockaded a raffles ticket on
his hat which he wore all to one side like the hangle of his pan (if Her
Elegance saw him she'd have the canary!) and was semiprivately convicted of
malpractices with his hotwashed tableknife (glossing over the cark in his
pocket) that same snob of the dunhill, fully several yearschaums riper,
encountered by the General on that redletter morning or maynoon jovesday and
were they? Fuitfuit.
When Phishlin Phil wants throws his lip 'tis pholly to be fortune
flonting and whoever's gone to mix Hotel by the salt say water there's nix
to nothing we can do for he's never again to sea. It is nebuless an
autodidact fact of the commonest that the shape of the average human
cloudyphiz, whereas sallow has long daze faded, frequently altered its ego
with the possing of the showers (Not original!). Whence it is a slopperish
matter, given the wet and low visibility (since in this scherzarade of one's
thousand one nightinesses that sword of certainty which would indentifide
the body never falls) to idendifine the individuone in scratch wig,
squarecuts, stock lavaleer, regattable oxeter, baggy pants and shufflers (he
is often alluded to as Slypatrick, the llad in the llane) with already an
incipience (lust!) in the direction of area baldness (one is continually
firstmeeting with odd sorts of others at all sorts of ages!) who was asked
by free boardschool shirkers in drenched coats overawall, Will, Conn and
Otto, to tell them overagait, Vol, Pov and Dev, that fishabed ghoatstory of
the haardly creditable edventyres of the Haberdasher, the two Curchies and
the three Enkelchums in their Bearskin ghoats! Girles and jongers,but he has
changed alok syne Thorkill's time! Ya, da, tra, gathery, pimp, shesses,
shossafat, okodeboko, nine! Those many warts, those slummy patches,
halfsinster wrinkles, (what has come over the face on wholebroader E?), and
(shrine of Mount Mu save us!) the large fungopark he has grown! Drink!
Sport's a common thing. It was the Lord's own day for damp (to wait for
a postponed regatta's eventualising is not of Battlecock Shettledore --
Juxta -- Mare only) and the request for a fully armed explanation was put
(in Loo of Pat) to the porty (a native of the sisterisle -- Meathman or
Meccan? -- by his brogue, exrace eyes, lokil calour and lucal odour which
are said to have been average clownturkish (though the capelist's voiced
nasal liquids and the way he sneezed at zees haul us back to the craogs and
bryns of the Silurian Ordovices) who, the lesser pilgrimage accomplished,
had made, pats' and pigs' older inselt, the southeast bluffs of the stranger
stepshore, a regifugium persecutorum, hence hindquarters) as he paused at
evenchime for some or so minutes (hit the pipe dannyboy! Time to won,
barmon. I'll take ten to win.) amid the devil's one duldrum (Apple by her
blossom window and Charlotte at her toss panomancy his sole admirers, his
only tearts in store) for a fragrend culubosh during his weekend pastime of
executing with Anny Oakley deadliness (the consummatory pairs of
provocatives, of which remained provokingly but two, the ones he fell for,
Lili and Tutu, cork em!) empties which had not very long before contained
Reid's family (you ruad that before, soaky, but all the bottles in sodemd
histry will not soften your bloodathirst!) stout. Having reprimed his
repeater and resiteroomed his timespiece His Revenances, with still a life
or two to spare for the space of his occupancy of a world at a time, rose to
his feet and there, far from Tolkaheim, in a quiet English garden
(commonplace!), since known as Whiddington Wild, his simple intensive
curolent vocality, my dearbraithers, my most dearbrathairs, as he, so is a
supper as is a sipper, spake of the One and told of the Compassionate,
called up before the triad of precoxious scaremakers (scoretaking: Spegulo
ne helpas al malbellulo, Mi Kredas ke vi estas prava, Via dote la vizago
rispondas fraulino) the now to ushere mythical habiliments of Our Farfar and
Arthor of our doyne.
Television kills telephony in brothers' broil. Our eyes demand their
turn. Let them be seen! And wolfbone balefires blaze the trailmost if only
that Mary Nothing may burst her bibby buckshee. When they set fire then
she's got to glow so we may stand some chances of warming to what every
soorkabatcha, tum or hum, would like to know. The first Humphrey's
latitudinous baver with puggaree behind, (calaboose belong bigboss belong
Kang the Toll) his fourinhand bow, his elbaroom surtout, the refaced
unmansionables of gingerine hue, the state slate umbrella, his gruff
woolselywellesly with the finndrinn knopfs and the gauntlet upon the hand
which in an hour not for him solely evil had struck down the might he
mighthavebeen d'Esterre of whom his nation seemed almost already to be about
to have need. Then, stealing his thunder, but in the befitting legomena of
the smaller country, (probable words, possibly said, of field family
gleaming) a bit duskish and flavoured with a smile, seein as ow his thoughts
consisted chiefly of the cheerio, he aptly sketched for our soontobe second
parents (sukand see whybe!) the touching seene. The solence of that
stilling! Here one might a fin fell. Boomster rombombonant! It scenes like a
landescape from Wildu Picturescu or some seem on some dimb Arras, dumb as
Mum's mutyness, this mimage of the seventyseventh kusin of kristansen is
odable to os across the wineless Ere no oedor nor mere eerie nor liss potent
of suggestion than in the tales of the tingmount. (Prigged !)
And there oftafter, jauntyjogging, on an Irish visavis, insteadily with
shoulder to shoulder Jehu will tell to Christianier, saint to sage, the
humphriad of that fall and rise while daisy winks at her pinker sister among
the tussocks and the copoll between the shafts mocks the couple on the car.
And as your who may look like how on the owther side of his big belttry your
tyrs and cloes your noes and paradigm maymay rererise in eren. Follow we up
his whip vindicative. Thurston's! Lo bebold! La arboro, lo petrusu. The
augustan peacebetothem oaks, the monolith rising stark from the moonlit
pinebarren. In all fortitudinous ajaxious rowdinoisy tenuacity. The angelus
hour with ditchers bent upon their farm usetensiles, the soft belling of the
fallow deers (doerehmoose genuane!) advertising their milky approach as
midnight was striking the hours (letate!), and how brightly the great
tribune outed the sharkskin smokewallet (imitation!) from his frock,
kippers, and by Joshua, he tips un a topping swank cheroot, none of your
swellish soide, quoit the reverse, and how manfally he says, pluk to pluk
and lekan for lukan, he was to just pluggy well suck that brown boyo, my
son, and spend a whole half hour in Havana. Sorer of the kreeksmen, would
not thore be old high gothsprogue! Wherefore he met Master, he mean to say,
he do, sire, bester of redpublicans, at Eagle Cock Hostel on Lorenzo Tooley
street and how he wished his Honour the bannocks of Gort and Morya and Bri
Head and Puddyrick, yore Loudship, and a starchboxsitting in the pit of his
St Tomach's, -- a strange wish for you, my friend, and it would poleaxe your
sonson's grandson utterly though your own old sweatandswear floruerunts
heaved it hoch many as the times, when they were turrified by the hitz.
Chee chee cheers for Upkingbilly and crow cru cramwells Downaboo! Hup,
boys, and hat him! See! Oilbeam they're lost we've fount rerembrandtsers,
their hours to date link these heirs to here but wowhere are those yours of
Yestersdays? Farseeingetherich and Poolaulwoman Charachthercuss and his Ann
van Vogt. D.e.e.d! Edned, ended or sleeping soundlessly? Favour with your
tongues! Intendite!
Any dog's life you list you may still hear them at it, like sixes and
seventies as eversure as Halley's comet, ulemamen, sobranjewomen,
storthingboys and dumagirls, as they pass its bleak and bronze portal of
your Casaconcordia: Huru more Nee, minny frickans? Hwoorledes har Dee de*
Losdoor onleft mladies, cue. Millecientotrigintadue scudi. Tippoty, kyrie,
tippoty. Cha kai rotty kai makkar, sahib? Despenseme Usted, senhor, en son
succo, sabez. O thaw bron orm, A'Cothraige, thinkinthou gaily?
Lick-Pa-flai-hai-pa-Pa-li-si-lang-lang. Epi alo, ecou, Batiste, tuvavnr dans
Lptit boing going. Ismeme de bumbac e meias de portocallie. O.O. Os pipos
mios es demasiada gruarso por O piccolo pocchino. Wee fee? Ung duro.
Kocshis, szabad? Mercy, and you? Gomagh, thak.
And, Cod, says he with mugger's tears: Would you care to know the prise
of a liard? Maggis, nick your nightynovel! Mass Travener's at the mike
again! And that bag belly is the buck to goat it! Meggeg, m'gay chapjappy
fellow, I call our univalse to witness, as sicker as moyliffey eggs is known
by our good househalters from yorehunderts of mamooth to be which they
commercially are in ahoy high British quarters (conventional!) my guesthouse
and cowhaendel credits will immediately stand ohoh open as straight as that
neighbouring monument's fabrication before the hygienic gllll (this was
where the reverent sabboth and bottlebreaker with firbalk forthstretched
touched upon his tricoloured boater, which he uplifted by its pickledhoopy
(he gave Stetson one and a penny for it) whileas oleaginosity of
ancestralolosis sgocciolated down the both pendencies of his mutsohito
liptails (Sencapetulo, a more modestuous conciliabulite never curled a tom
pocketmouth), cordially inwiting the adullescence who he was wising up to do
in like manner what all did so as he was able to add) lobe before the Great
Schoolmaster's. (I tell you no story.) Smile!
The house of Atreox is fallen indeedust (Ilyam, Ilyum! Maeromor
Mournomates !) averging on blight like the mundibanks of Fennyana, but deeds
bounds going arise again. Life, he himself said once, (his biografiend, in
fact, kills him verysoon, if yet not, after) is a wake, livit or krikit, and
on the bunk of our breadwinning lies the cropse of our seedfather, a phrase
which the establisher of the world by law might pretinately write across the
chestfront of all manorwombanborn. The scene, refreshed, reroused, was never
to be forgotten, the hen and crusader everintermutuomergent, for later in
the century one of that puisne band of factferreters, (then an excivily (out
of the custom huts) (retired), (hurt), under the sixtyfives act) in a dressy
black modern style and wewere shiny tan burlingtons, (tam, homd and dicky,
quopriquos and peajagd) rehearsed it, pippa pointing, with a dignified
(copied) bow to a namecousin of the late archdeacon F. X. Preserved
Coppinger (a hot fellow in his night, may the mouther of guard have mastic
on him!) in a pullwoman of our first transhibernian with one still sadder
circumstance which is a dirkandurk heartskewerer if ever to bring bouncing
brimmers from marbled eyes. Cycloptically through the windowdisks and with
eddying awes the round eyes of the rundreisers,back to back, buck to bucker,
on their airish chaunting car, beheld with intouristing anterestedness the
clad pursue the bare, the bare the green, the green the frore, the frore the
cladagain, as their convoy wheeled encirculingly abound the gigantig's
lifetree, our fireleaved loverlucky blomsterbohm, phoenix in our
woodlessness, haughty, cacuminal, erubescent (repetition!) whose roots they
be asches with lustres of peins. For as often as the Archicadenus, pleacing
aside his Irish Field and craving their auriculars to recepticle particulars
before they got the bump at Castlebar (mat and far!) spoke of it by request
all, hearing in this new reading of the part whereby, because of Dyas in his
machina, the new garrickson's grimacing grimaldism hypostasised by
substintuation the axiomatic orerotundity of that once grand old elrington
bawl, the copycus's description of that fellowcommuter's play upon
countenants, could simply imagine themselves in their bosom's inmost core,
as pro tem locums, timesported acorss the yawning (abyss), as once they were
seasiders, listening to the cockshyshooter's evensong evocation of the
doomed but always ventriloquent Agitator, (nonot more plangorpound the
billows o'er Thounawahallya Reef!) silkhouatted, a whallrhosmightiadd,
aginsst the dusk of skumring, (would that fane be Saint Muezzin's calling --
holy places ! -- and this fez brimless as brow of faithful toucher of the
ground, did wish it were -- blessed be the bones ! -- the ghazi, power of
his sword.) his manslayer's gunwielder protended towards that overgrown
leadpencil which was soon, monumentally at least, to rise as Molyvdokondylon
to, to be, to be his mausoleum (O'dan stod tillsteyne at meisies aye skould
show pon) while olover his exculpatory features, as Roland rung, a wee
dropeen of grief about to sillonise his jouejous, the ghost of resignation
diffused a spectral appealingness, as a young man's drown o'er the fate of
his waters may gloat, similar in origin and akkurat in effective to a beam
of sunshine upon a coffin plate.
Not olderwise Inn the days of the Bygning would our Traveller remote,
unfriended, from van Demon's Land, some lazy skald or maundering pote, lift
wearywilly his slowcut snobsic eyes to the semisigns of his zooteac and
lengthily lingering along flaskneck, cracket cup, downtrodden brogue,
turfsod, wildbroom, cabbageblad, stockfisch, longingly learn that there at
the Angel were herberged for him poteen and tea and praties and baccy and
wine width woman wordth warbling: and informally quasi-begin to
presquesm'ile to queasithin' (Nonsense! There was not very much windy Nous
blowing at the given moment through the hat of Mr Melancholy Slow!)
But in the pragma what formal cause made a smile of that tothink? Who
was he to whom? (O'Breen's not his name nor the brown one his maid.) Whose
are the placewheres? Kiwasti, kisker, kither, kitnabudja? Tal the tem of the
tumulum. Giv the gav of the grube. Be it cudgelplayers' country,
orfishfellows' town or leeklickers' land or panbpanungopovengreskey. What
regnans raised the rains have levelled but we hear the pointers and can
gauge their compass for the melos yields the mode and the mode the manners
plicyman, plansiman, plousiman, plab. Tsin tsin tsin tsin! The forefarther
folkers for a prize of two peaches with Ming, Ching and Shunny on the lie
low lea. We'll sit down on the hope of the ghouly ghost for the titheman
troubleth but his hantitat hies not here. They answer from their Zoans; Hear
the four of them! Hark torroar of them! I, says Armagh, and a'm proud o'it.
I, says Clonakilty, God help us! I, says Deansgrange, and say nothing. I,
says Barna, and whatabout it? Hee haw! Before he fell hill he filled heaven:
a stream, alplapping streamlet, coyly coiled um, cool of her curls: We were
but thermites then, wee, wee. Our antheap we sensed as a Hill of Allen, the
Barrow for an People, one Jotnursfjaell: and it was a grummelung amung the
porktroop that wonderstruck us as a thunder, yunder.
Thus the unfacts, did we possess them, are too imprecisely few to
warrant our certitude, the evidencegivers by legpoll too untrustworthily
irreperible where his adjugers are semmingly freak threes but his
judicandees plainly minus twos. Nevertheless Madam's Toshowus waxes largely
more lifeliked (entrance, one kudos; exits, free) and our notional gullery
is now completely complacent, an exegious monument, aerily perennious.
Oblige with your blackthorns; gamps, degrace! And there many have paused
before that exposure of him by old Tom Quad, a flashback in which he sits
sated, gowndabout, in clericalease habit, watching bland sol slithe
dodgsomely into the nethermore, a globule of maugdleness about to
corrugitate his mild dewed cheek and the tata of a tiny victorienne, Alys,
pressed by his limper looser.
Yet certes one is. Eher the following winter had overed the pages of
nature's book and till Ceadurbar-atta-Cleath became Dablena Tertia, the
shadow of the huge outlander, maladik, multvult, magnoperous, had bulked at
the bar of a rota of tribunals in manor hall as in thieves' kitchen, mid
pillow talk and chithouse chat, on Marlborough Green as through Molesworth
Fields, here sentenced pro tried with Jedburgh justice, there acquitted
contestimony with benefit of clergy. His Thing Mod have undone him: and his
madthing has done him man. His beneficiaries are legion in the part he
created: they number up his years. Greatwheel Dunlop was the name was on
him: behung, all we are his bisaacles. As hollyday in his house so was he
priest and king to that: ulvy came, envy saw, ivy conquered. Lou ! Lou! They
have waved his green boughs o'er him as they have torn him limb from lamb.
For his muertification and uxpiration and dumnation and annuhulation. With
schreis and grida, deprofound souspirs. Steady, sullivans! Mannequins pause!
Longtong's breach is fallen down but Graunya's spreed's abroad. Ahdostay,
feedailyones, and feel the Flucher's bawls for the total of your flouts is
not fit to fan his fettle,O! Have a ring and sing wohl! Chin, chin! Chin,
chin! And of course all chimed din width the eatmost boviality. Swiping rums
and beaunes and sherries and ciders and negus and citronnades too. The
strongers. Oho, oho, Mester Begge, you're about to be bagged in the bog
again. Bugge. But softsies seufsighed: Eheu, for gassies! But, lo! lo! by
the threnning gods, human, erring and condonable, what the statues of our
kuo, who is the messchef be our kuang, ashu ashure there, the unforgettable
treeshade looms up behind the jostling judgements of those, as all should
owe, malrecapturable days.
Tap and pat and tapatagain, (fire firstshot, Missiers the Refuseleers!
Peingpeong! For saxonlootie!) three tommix, soldiers free, cockaleak and
cappapee, of the Coldstream. Guards were walking, in (pardonnez-leur, je
vous en prie, eh?) Montgomery Street. One voiced an opinion in which on
either wide (pardonnez!), nodding, all the Finner Camps concurred (je vous
en prie, eh?). It was the first woman, they said, souped him, that fatal
wellesday, Lili Coninghams, by suggesting him they go in a field. Wroth mod
eldfar, ruth redd stilstand, wrath wrackt wroth, confessed private Pat
Marchison retro. (Terse!) Thus contenters with santoys play. One of our
coming Vauxhall ontheboards who is resting for the moment (she has been
callit by a noted stagey elecutioner a wastepacket Sittons) was interfeud in
a waistend pewty parlour. Looking perhaps even more pewtyflushed in her
cherryderry padouasoys, girdle and braces by the halfmoon and Seven Stars,
russets from the Blackamoor's Head, amongst the climbing boys at his Eagle
and Child and over the corn and hay emptors at their Black and All Black,
Mrs F . . . A . . . saidaside, half in stage of whisper to her confidante
glass, while recoopering her cartwheel chapot (ahat! -- and we now know what
thimbles a baquets on lallance a talls mean), she hoped Sid Arthar would git
a Chrissman's portrout of orange and lemonsized orchids with hollegs and
ether, from the feeatre of the Innocident, as the worryld had been uncained.
Then, while it is odrous comparisoning to the sprangflowers of his burstday
which was a viridable goddinpotty for the reinworms and the charlattinas and
all branches of climatitis, it has been such a wanderful noyth untirely,
added she, with many regards to Maha's pranjapansies. (Tart!) Prehistoric,
obitered to his dictaphone an entychologist: his propenomen is a
properismenon. A dustman nocknamed Sevenchurches in the employ of Messrs
Achburn, Soulpetre and Ashreborn, prairmakers, Glintalook, was asked by the
sisterhood the vexed question during his midday collation of leaver and
buckrom alternatively with stenk and kitteney phie in a hashhoush and,
thankeaven, responsed impulsively: We have just been propogandering his
nullity suit and what they took out of his ear among my own crush. All our
fellows at O'Dea's sages with Aratar Calaman he is a cemented brick, buck it
all! A more nor usually sober cardriver, who was jauntingly hosing his
runabout, Ginger Jane, took a strong view. Lorry hosed her as he talked and
this is what he told rewritemen: Irewaker is just a plain pink joint
reformee in private life but folks all have it by brehemons laws he has
parliamentary honours. Eiskaffier said (Louigi's, you know that man's,
brillant Savourain): Mon foie, you wish to ave some homelette, yes, lady!
Good,mein leber! Your hegg he must break himself See,I crack, so, he sit in
the poele, umbedimbt! A perspirer (over sixty) who was keeping up his
tennises panted he kne ho har twa to clect infamatios but a diffpair
flannels climb wall and trespassing on doorbell. After fullblown Braddon
hear this fresky troterella! A railways barmaid's view (they call her
Spilltears Rue) was thus expressed: to sympathisers of the Dole Line, Death
Avenue,anent those objects of her pity-prompted ministrance, to wet, man and
his syphon. Ehim! It is ever too late to whissle when Phyllis floods her
stable. It would be skarlot shame to jailahim in lockup, as was proposed to
him by the Seddoms creature what matter what merrytricks went off with his
revulverher in connections with ehim being a norphan and enjoining such
wicked illth, ehim! Well done, Drumcollakill! Kitty Tyrrel is proud of you,
was the reply of a B.O.T. official (O blame gnot the board !) while the
Daughters Benkletter murmured in uniswoon: Golforgilhisjurylegs! Brian
Lynsky, the cub curser, was questioned at his shouting box, Bawlonabraggat,
and gave a snappy comeback, when saying: Paw! Once more I'll hellbowl! I am
for caveman chase and sahara sex, burk you! Them two bitches ought to be
leashed, canem! Up hog and hoar hunt! Paw! A wouldbe martyr, who is
attending on sanit Asitas where he is being taught to wear bracelets, when
grilled on the point, revealed the undoubted fact that the consequence would
be that so long as Sankya Moondy played his mango tricks under the
mysttetry, with shady apsaras sheltering in his leaves' licence and his
shadowers torrifried by the potent bolts of indradiction, there would be
fights all over Cuxhaven. (Tosh!) Missioner Ida Wombwell, the
seventeenyearold revivalist, said concerning the coincident of interfizzing
with grenadines and other respectable and disgusted peersons using the park:
That perpendicular person is a brut! But a magnificent brut! 'Caligula' (Mr
Danl Magrath, bookmaker, wellknown to Eastrailian poorusers of the Sydney
Parade Ballotin) was, as usual, antipodal with his: striving todie, hopening
tomellow, Ware Splash. Cobbler. We have meat two hourly, sang out El Caplan
Buycout, with the famous padre's turridur's capecast, meet too ourly,
matadear! Dan Meiklejohn, precentor, of S.S. Smack and Olley's was
probiverbal with his upsiduxit: mutatus mutandus. Dauran's lord ('Sniffpox')
and Moirgan's lady ('Flatterfun') took sides and crossed and bowed to each
other's views and recrossed themselves. The dirty dubs upin their flies,
went too free, echoed the dainly drabs downin their scenities, una mona.
Sylvia Silence, the girl detective (Meminerva, but by now one hears
turtlings all over Doveland!) when supplied with informations as to the
several facets of the case in her cozydozy bachelure's flat, quite
overlooking John a'Dream's mews, leaned back in her really truly easy chair
to query restfully through her vowelthreaded syllabelles: Have you evew
thought, wepowtew, that sheew gweatness was his twadgedy? Nevewtheless
accowding to my considewed attitudes fow this act he should pay the full
penalty, pending puwsuance, as pew Subsec. 32, section II, of the C. L. A.
act 1885, anything in this act to the contwawy notwithstanding. Jarley Jilke
began to silke for he couldn't get home to Jelsey but ended with: He's got
the sack that helped him moult instench of his gladsome rags. Meagher, a
naval rating, seated on one of the granite cromlech setts of our new
fishshambles for the usual aireating after the ever popular act, with whom
were Questa and Puella, piquante and quoite, (this had a cold in her brain
while that felt a sink in her summock, wit's wat, wot's wet) was encouraged,
although nearvanashed himself, by one of his co-affianced to get your
breath, Walt, and gobbit and when ther chidden by her fastra sastra to
saddle up your pance, Naville, thus cor replied to her other's
thankskissing: I lay my two fingerbuttons, fiancee Meagher, (he speaks!) he
was to blame about your two velvetthighs up Horniman's Hill -- as hook and
eye blame him or any other piscman? -- but I also think, Puellywally, by the
siege of his trousers there was someone else behind it -- you bet your
boughtem blarneys -- about their three drummers down Keysars Lane. (Trite!).
Be these meer marchant taylor's fablings of a race referend with oddman
rex? Is now all seenheard then forgotten? Can it was, one is fain in this
leaden age of letters now to wit, that so diversified outrages (they have
still to come!) were planned and partly carried out against so staunch a
covenanter if it be true than any of those recorded ever took place for
many, we trow, beyessed to and denayed of, are given to us by some who use
the truth but sparingly and we, on this side ought to sorrow for their
pricking pens on that account. The seventh city, Urovivla, his citadear of
refuge, whither (would we believe the laimen and their counts), beyond the
outraved gales of Atreeatic, changing clues with a baggermalster, the
hejirite had fled, silentioussuemeant under night's altosonority, shipalone,
a raven of the wave, (be mercy, Mara! A he whence Rahoulas!) from the
ostmen's dirtby on the old vic, to forget in expiating manslaughter and,
reberthing in remarriment out of dead seekness to devine previdence, (if you
are looking for the bilder deep your ear on the movietone!) to league his
lot, palm and patte, with a papishee. For mine qvinne I thee giftake and
bind my hosenband I thee halter. The wastobe land, a lottuse land, a
luctuous land, Emeraldilluim, the peasant pastured, in which by the fourth
commandment with promise his days apostolic were to be long by the abundant
mercy of Him Which Thundereth From On High, murmured, would rise against him
with all which in them were, franchisables and inhabitands, astea as agora,
helotsphilots, do him hurt, poor jink, ghostly following bodily, as were he
made a curse for them, the corruptible lay quick, all saints of
incorruption-of-an holy nation, the common or ere-in-garden castaway, in red
resurrection to condemn so they might convince him, first pharoah, Humpheres
Cheops Exarchas, of their proper sins. Business bred to speak with a stiff
upper lip to all men and most occasions the Man we wot of took little short
of fighting chances but for all that he or his or his care were subjected to
the horrors of the premier terror of Errorland. (perorhaps!)
We seem to us (the real Us !) to be reading our Amenti in the sixth
sealed chapter of the going forth by black. It was after the show at
Wednesbury that one tall man, humping a suspicious parcel, when returning
late amid a dense particular on his home way from the second house of the
Boore and Burgess Christy Menestrels by the old spot, Roy's Corner, had a
barkiss revolver placed to his faced with the words: you're shot, major: by
an unknowable assailant (masked) against whom he had been jealous over,
Lotta Crabtree or Pomona Evlyn. More than that Whenn the Waylayer (not a
Lucalizod diocesan or even of the Glendalough see, but hailing fro' the prow
of Little Britain), mentioning in a bytheway that he, the crawsopper, had,
in edition to Reade's cutless centiblade, a loaded Hobson's which left only
twin alternatives as, viceversa, either he would surely shoot her, the aunt,
by pistol, (she could be okaysure of that!) or, failing of such, bash in
Patch's blank face beyond recognition, pointedly asked with gaeilish gall
wodkar blizzard's business Thornton had with that Kane's fender only to be
answered by the aggravated assaulted that that that was the snaps for him,
Midweeks, to sultry well go and find out if he was showery well able. But
how transparingly nontrue, gentlewriter ! His feet one is not a tall man,
not at all,man. No such parson. No such fender. No such lumber. No such
race. Was it supposedly in connection with a girls, Myramy Huey or Colores
Archer, under Flaggy Bridge (for ann there is but one liv and hir newbridge
is her old) or to explode his twelvechamber and force a shrievalty entrance
that the heavybuilt Abelbody in a butcherblue blouse from One Life One Suit
(a men's wear store), with a most decisive bottle of single in his
possession, seized after dark by the town guard at Haveyoucaught-emerod's
temperance gateway was there in a gate's way.
Fifthly, how parasoliloquisingly truetoned on his first time of hearing
the wretch's statement that, muttering Irish, he had had had o'gloriously
a'lot too much hanguest or hoshoe fine to drink in the House of Blazes, the
Parrot in Hell, the Orange Tree, the Glibt, the Sun, the Holy Lamb and,
lapse not leashed, in Ramitdown's ship hotel since the morning moment he
could dixtinguish a white thread from a black till the engine of the laws
declosed unto Murray and was only falling fillthefluthered up against the
gatestone pier which, with the cow's bonnet a'top o'it, he falsetook for a
cattlepillar with purest peaceablest intentions. Yet how lamely hobbles the
hoy of his then pseudojocax axplanation how, according to his own story, he
vas a process server and was merely trying to open zozimus a bottlop stoub
by mortially hammering his magnum bonum (the curter the club the sorer the
savage) against the bludgey gate for the boots about the swan,Maurice Behan,
who hastily into his shoes with nothing his hald barra tinnteack and came
down with homp, shtemp and jumphet to the tiltyard from the wastes a'sleep
in his obi ohny overclothes or choker, attracted by the norse of guns
playing Delandy is cartager on the raglar rock to Dulyn, said war' prised
safe in bed as he dreamed that he'd wealthes in mormon halls when wokenp by
a fourth loud snore out of his land of byelo while hickstrey's maws was
grazing in the moonlight by hearing hammering on the pandywhank scale
emanating from the blind pig and anything like it (oonagh!oonagh!) in the
whole history of the Mullingcan Inn he never. This battering babel allower
the door and sideposts, he always said, was not in the very remotest like
the belzey babble of a bottle of boose which would not rouse him out o'
slumber deep but reminded him loads more of the martiallawsey marses of
foreign musikants' instrumongs or the overthrewer to the third last days of
Pompery, if anything. And that after this most nooningless knockturn the
young reine came down desperate and the old liffopotamus started ploring all
over the plains, as mud as she cud be, ruinating all the bouchers' schurts
and the backers' wischandtugs so that be the chandeleure of the
Rejaneyjailey they were all night wasching the walters of, the weltering
walters off. Whyte.
Just one moment. A pinch in time of the ideal, musketeers! Alphos,
Burkos and Caramis, leave Astrelea for the astrollajerries and for the love
of the saunces and the honour of Keavens pike puddywhackback to Pamintul.
And roll away the reel world, the reel world, the reel world! And call all
your smokeblushes, Snowwhite and Rosered, if you will have the real cream!
Now for a strawberry frolic ! Filons, filoosh ! Cherchons la flamme!
Fammfamm! Fammfamm!
Come on, ordinary man with that large big nonobli head, and that blanko
berbecked fischial ekksprezzion Machinsky Scapolopolos, Duzinascu or other.
Your machelar's mutton leg's getting musclebound from being too pulled. Noah
Beery weighed stone thousand one when Hazel was a hen. Now her fat's falling
fast. Therefore, chatbags, why not yours? There are 29 sweet reasons why
blossomtime's the best. Elders fall for green almonds when they're raised on
bruised stone root ginger though it winters on their heads as if auctumned
round their waistbands. If you'd had pains in your hairs you wouldn't look
so orgibald. You'd have Colley Macaires on your lump of lead. Now listen, Mr
Leer! And stow that sweatyfunnyadams Simper! Take an old geeser who calls on
his skirt. Note his sleek hair, so elegant, tableau vivant. He vows her to
be his own honeylamb, swears they will be papa pals, by Sam, and share good
times way down west in a guaranteed happy lovenest when May moon she shines
and they twit twinkle all the night, combing the comet's tail up right and
shooting popguns at the stars. Creampuffs all to dime! Every nice,
missymackenzies! For dear old grumpapar, he's gone on the razzledar, through