FINNEGANS WAKE

Typescript

3rd typescript, November 1938, IV§5 draft level 3, 3+

MS British Library 47488 139, 145-150 Draft details

Soft morning, city! I am Leafy speafing. |3Lifp! Lfp!º3| Folty and folty all the nights have being falling on to long my hair. Not a sound, falling. No wind, no word. Only a leaf, just a leaf and then leaves. The woods are so fond always. It is for my goolden wending. Rise up, man of the hooths, you have slept so long! I am Leafy, your goolden, so you called me, my life, you're goolden, silve me solve, exsogerraider! Here is your shirt, the day one, come back. The stock, your collar. Also your double brogues. And stand up tall. I want to see you looking fine for me. You make me think of a seaman I once. Or an earl was he, at Lucan? Or, no, it's the Iren duke's I mean. Or sombrey erse from Darklands. Come and let us. The childer are still fast. There is no school today. Them boys is so contrairy. Heel trouble and heal travel. Unless they changes by mistake. I seen the likes in the twinngling of an aye. So oft. Time after time. The sehm asnuh. |3|aTwo bredder as doffered as nors in soun.a| When one of him sighs or one of him cries 'tis you all over. No peace at all. Maybe
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it's
those two old crony aunts we lit on held them out to the water frontº. Queer Mrs Quickenough and odd Miss Doddpebble. From the Laundersdale Minssions. One chap googling |aata| the holyboy's thingabib and this lad wetting his wee. You were pleased as Punch, reciting |sabits exploitssa| to the gapers. But that night after, all you were wanton! Bidding me do this and that and the other. And blowing off to me,º hugly Judsys, what wouldn't you give to have a girl.
3| And her, you wait. Eager to choose is left for her shade. |3Findlings makes runaways, runaways blank. What will be is. Is is.3| But let them. Slops and the slut too. It's Phoenix, dear. And the flame is, hear! Let's our |s3journeey joornees3| saintomichael make it. Since lausafire has lost and the book of the debt is. Closed. Come! We've light enough. |3Send Arctur guidus!3| It is the softest morning that ever I can ever remember me. |s3But she won't rain showerly. The sons of bursters won in the games games.s3| The trout will be so |3nice fine3| at brookfisht. With a cut of roly polony |3(+from Blugpuddelsº+)3| after. To bring out the tang of the tay. Are my not truly? Lst! Only you must buy me a fine new girdle too. Come. Give me your great |3big hand bearspaw3| for miny tiny. |3Minecyhandsy |ain the langua of flowsa|. That's myº Jargon Jargonsen. But you understood.3| We will take our walk before they ring the |3earthly3| bells. Pax |3Goodmass Go goodmensº will3|. Or the birds start their treestorm shindy. Look, there are yours off, high on high! And,
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O, sweet good luck they're cawing you, Coole! You see, they're as white as the riven snae. |3For us.3| Not such big |3steps. steps, huddy |saheaver (+hevvy foddy+)sa|! You'll crush my antelopes.3| It is hardly a mile or seven. It is very good for health in the morning. It seems so long since|s3, ages sinces3|. As if you had been long far away. You will tell me some time if I can believe its all. You know where I am bringing you? You remember? Not a soul but ourselves. We might call on the Old Lord, what do you say? He is a |s3good fines3| sport. His door always open. Remember to take off your white hat, ech? And say |s3hoothoodoo hoothoothoos3|. You'll know our way from there, surely? Flura's way. Where once we led so many car couples have follied since. Giving Shaughnessy's mare the |s3hillymoont hillymounts3| of her life. With her strulldeburgghers! Hnmn hnmn! The rollcky road adondering. We can sit us down on the heathery benn, me on you. To scand the arising. |s3When the moon (+of mourning+) is set and gone.s3| Ourselves, oursouls |3alone at alone. At3| the site of salvocean. And watch would the letter you're wanting be coming may be. That I prays for |3with me dreams be mains of me draims3|. Scratching it and patching at with a prompt from a primer. |3And what scrips of knowledges I pecked up beº meself.3| Based on traumscrapt from Maston, Boss. After rounding his
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world of ancient days. Carried in a caddy or screwed and corked. On his mugisstosst surface. With a bob, bob, bottledy bob. Blob. |3When the waves give up yours the soil may for me. Sometime |athen,ºa| somewhere |athere,ºa| hav I buried wrote me hopes and buried the page when I heard Thyº voice and left it to lie till a kissmessº coming.3| You must build our villa there and we'll cohabit respectable. The Gowans, ser, for Medem, me. With acute |s3runtoher runtoers3| for to pippup where the sterres be. Tiltop, bigmaster! You're not so giddy now any more. Only don't start your |s3games stuntsºs3| of last night again. I could guessp to her name who tuckt you that one, tufnut! Bold bet backwords. For the loves of the sins! Before the naked |3sky universe3|. |3And the bailby pleasemarm rincing his eye! |aOne of these fine days|b, lewdycullerº,b| you'll have to reform again. Help Blessed Martin!a|3| Softly so. I am so exquisitely pleased about the |3lovely loveleavest3| dress I have. You will always call me Leafy, won't you? And you won't urbjunk to my parafume, oiled of |3Kolloonely kollooney3|. Sm! It's Allpine Smile from Yesther and Yesthers. I'm in everywince nasturtls. Astale of astoun. |s3Queer grand Grandºs3| old marauder! If I knew who you are! I will tell you all sorts of |3stories makeups3|, strange one. |3About Andº show you to3| every simple |3place storyplace3| we pass. It is all so often and still the same to me. If I lose my breath for a minute or two don't speak, remember. |3Once it happened|a, ages since,a| so |ait may may itºa| again. |aWhy I'm all these years within years in soffran. To hide away the tear, the parted.a|3| It's thinking of all. I'll begin again in a jiffey. How glad you'll be I waked you! My! How well you'll feel! For ever after. First we turn a little here and then it's easy. I only hope whole the heavens sees
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us. For I feel I could |3faint near to faint away3|. |3Let me lean, just a lea, if you le, bowldstrong bigtider. Allgirls is wea. At times. So. |aIvor and Evar.a| Wrhps, that wind as if out of norewere! |aJumpst in me mouth.a| Ludegude of the |aLashlannds Lashlannsa|, how he whips me cheeks!º Sea, sea!3| Here weir, reach, island, bridge. |3There! That's what cockles the hearty! Where you meet I. |aRemember. The day! The day. Remember!ºa| |aWhy there that moment and us two only? |bI was but teen, a tiler's tot. The swanky that was boosting always he was like to me father. But the swaggerest swell off |cSacville Sacvullec| Strutt.b|a| And you were the pantymammy's Vulking Corsergoth. The invision of Irelands. |saAnd,º by Thorror, you looked it!sa| My lips went livid from the joy of fear. Like almost now. How you said how you'd give me the keys of me heart. |aOnly now it's me who's got to give.a| And we'd be married till though dev do espart. O mine! 3| |v3Let me lean, so soft our morning. So soft this morning ours. First. We pass through grass behush the bush.v3| So. |3But I'm taller now. And there. As then. Softhee,º mememormee! Lps. Take. The keys to. Given!3| |v3A bit beside the bush and then a walk along the A way a lone a lostº a last a loved a long thev3|

Paris,
1922—1938.