Now, concerning the genesis of Harold or Humphrey Chimpden's occupational agnomen and discarding once for all those theories from older sources which would link him back with such pivotal ancestors as the Glues, the Gravys, the Northeasts, the Ankers and the Earwickers of Sidlesham in the Hundred of Manhood or proclaim him
(4a descendant offsprout4) of vikings who had founded (4or settled
wapentake and seddled hem4) in Herrick or Eric, the best authenticated version has it that it was this way. We are told how in the beginning it came to pass that, like cabbaging Cincinnatus, the grand old gardener was saving daylight one sultry sabbath
afternoon in prefall paradise peace by following his plough for rootles in the rere garden of ye olde marine hotel when royalty was announced by runner to have been pleased to have halted itself on the highroad along which a leisureloving dogfox had cast followed, also at walking pace, by a lady pack of cocker spaniels. Forgetful of all save his vassal's plain
fealty to the ethnarch, Humphrey or Harold stayed not to yoke or saddle but stumbled out hotface as he was (his sweatful bandanna loose from his pocketcoat), hasting to the forecourts of his public in topee, surcingle, plus fours and bulldog boots ruddled with red marl, jingling his turnpike keys and bearing aloft amid the fixed pikes of the hunting party a high perch atop of which a flowerpot was fixed earthside up with care. On his majesty, who was, or often feigned to be, noticeably longsighted from green youth and had been meaning to inquire what, in effect, had caused yon causeway to be (4so thus4) potholed, asking, substitutionally, to be put wise as to whether paternoster and silver doctors were not now more fancied bait for lobstertrapping, honest blunt Haromphreyld answered in no uncertain tones very similarly with a fearless
forehead: Naw, yer maggers, aw war jist a cotchin on thon bluggy earwuggers. Our sailor king, who was draining a gugglet of obvious water, upon this, ceasing to swallow, smiled most heartily beneath his walrus moustaches and, indulging that none too genial humour which William the Conk on the spindle side had inherited with the hereditary whitelock and some shortfingeredness from his greataunt Sophy, turned towards two of his retinue of gallowglasses, Michael, etheling lord of Leix in Offaly, and the jubilee mayor of Drogheda, Elcock, the two scatterguns being Michael (4M.4) Manning, protosyndic of Waterford, and an Italian excellency named Giubilei according to a later version cited by the learned scholarch Canavan of Canmakenoise, and remarked dilsydulsily: Holybones, how our red brother of Pouringrainia would audibly fume did he know that we have for trusty bailiwick a turnpiker who is by turns a pikebailer no seldomer than an earwigger! Comes the question: are these the facts as recorded in both or either of the collateral andrewpomurphyc narratives? We shall perhaps not so soon see. The great fact emerges that after that historic date all holographs so far exhumed initialled by Haromphrey bear the sigla H.C.E. and while he was only and long and always good dook Umphrey for the hungerlean spalpeens of Lucalizod and Chimbers to his cronies it was equally certainly a pleasant turn of the populace which gave him as sense of those normative letters the nickname Here Comes Everybody.
An imposing everybody he always indeed looked, constantly the same as (4and equal to4) himself and magnificently well worthy of any and all such universalisation, every time he continually surveyed from good start to happy finish the truly catholic assemblage gathered together from (4all quarters theirº assbawlveldts and oxgangs4) unanimously to (4applaud clapplaud4) Mr W. W. Semperkelly's immergreen tourers in the problem passion play of the millentury A Royal Divorce with ambitious interval band selections from The Bo' Girl and The Lily on all gala command nights from his viceregal booth where, a veritable Napoleon the (4Fourth Nth4), this (4father of the people folksforefather4) all of the time sat, having the entirety of his house about him, with the invariable broadstretched kerchief cooling his whole neck, nape and shoulderblades and in a wardrobepanelled tuxedo completely thrown back from a shirt well entitled a swallowall, on every point far outstarching the laundered clawhammers and marbletopped highboys of the pit stalls and early amphitheatre. A baser meaning has been read into these characters the literal sense of which decency can safely scarcely hint. It has been blurtingly bruited by certain wisecracks that he suffered from a vile disease. To such a suggestion the one selfrespecting answer is to affirm that there are certain statements which ought not to be and, one should like to be able to add, ought not to be allowed to be made. Nor have his detractors, who, an imperfectly warmblooded race, apparently conceive him as a great white caterpillar capable of any and every enormity in the calendar recorded to the discredit of the Juke and Kellikek families, mended their case by insinuating that, alternatively, he lay at one time under the ludicrous imputation of annoying Welsh fusiliers in the people's park. To anyone
who knew and loved the Christlikeness of the big cleanminded giant H. C. Earwicker throughout his long existence the mere suggestion of him as a lustsleuth nosing for trouble in a boobytrap rings particularly preposterous. Truth compels one to add that there is said to have once been some case of the kind implicating, it is sometimes believed, a quidam about that time walking around Dublin with a bad record who has remained completely anonymous but (4(let us call him Abdullah Gamellaxarksky)4) was, it is stated, posted at Mallon's at the instance of watch warriors of the vigilance committee and years afterwards, writes one (4evenº greater4), seemingly dropped dead whilst waiting for a chop somewhere near Hawkins Street. Slander, let it lie its flattest, has never been able to convict that good and great and no ordinary Southron Earwicker, as a pious author calls him, of any graver impropriety than that, advanced by some woodward or regarder who did not dare deny that he had that day consumed the soul of the corn, of having behaved in an ungentlemanly manner opposite a pair of dainty maidservants in the (4greenth swoolth4) of the rushy hollow whither, or so the two gown and pinners pleaded, Dame Nature in all innocency had spontaneously and about the same hour of the eventide sent them both but whose published combinations of testimonies are, where not dubiously pure, visibly divergent on minor points touching the intimate nature of this, a first offence in vert or venison which was admittedly an incautious but, at its (4widest wildest4), a partial exposure with such attenuating circumstances (4(garthen gaddeth green hwere sokeman hridethº girling)4) as an abnormal Saint |+4Martin's Swithin's+|4| summer and a ripe occasion to provoke it.
Guiltless of much laid to him he was clearly for so once at least he clearly and with still a trace of his erstwhile burr |v4declared himself to be expressed himself as
beingºv4| and |v4hencev4| it has been received |v4of
usv4| that it is true. They tell the story |v4that howv4| one happy-go-gusty Ides-of-April morning (the anniversary, as it fell out, of his first |v4assuming assumptionv4| of his mirthday suit |v4andv4| rights |v4in appurtenancev4| to the confusioning of human races) |4long ages andº ages4| after the alleged misdemeanour when the tried friend of nature, tigerwood roadstaff to his stay, was billowing across the wide expanse of our greatest park in his caoutchouc kepi |v4& andv4| rubberised inverness he met a cad with a pipe. The latter, who (the odds are) is still going about, carrying his coat under his arm and signing the pledge as gaily as you please, hardily accosted him with: |v4guiness Guinnessv4| thaw tool? (a nice how-do-you-do in Dublin at the time as some of our oldtimers |v4can mayv4| still tremblingly recall) to ask could he tell him how much |4o'clock a clock4| it was that the clock struck had he any idea by cock's luck as his watch was bradys. The Earwicker of that spurring instant, realising on fundamental liberal principles the supreme importance of |v4thev4| physical life (the nearest help relay being pingping K.O. |v4Saint Patrick's Senpatrick'sºv4| Day and the fenian rising) and unwishful as he felt of being sent into eternity, plugged by a softnosed bullet from the sap, halted, quick on the draw, and, replyin that he was feelin tipstaff, cue, |v4produced prodoocedv4| from his gunpocket his Jurgensen's shrapnel waterbury but, |v4at the same instant on the same stroke,v4| hearing above the skirling of harsh Mother East old Fox Goodman, over the wastes to south, |v4work one at workv4| upon the |v4five tenv4| ton tenor bell in the speckled church, told the inquiring kidder, by Johova, it was twelve of |v4them emv4| sidereal, adding buttall, as he bended deeply, with smoked sardinish breath, to give more |v4weight pondusv4| to the copperstick he presented, that the hakusay accusation |v4against him |aagainst im againstma|v4| had been made, what was well known in high quarters, by a creature in |v4human youmanv4| form who was several degrees lower than a |v4treblehydrad triplehydradv4| snake. In greater support of his word (it, quaint anticipation of a famous phrase, has been |v4reconstructed reconstrictedv4| and |v4tosammenstucked toosammenstuckedv4| from successive accounts by Noah Webster in the redaction known as the Sayings Attributive
of H. C. Earwicker, |v4price prizev4| one schillings|v4, postlots freev4|) the flaxen Gygas tapped his chronometrum |v4drumdrumv4| and, now standing full erect above the ambijacent floodplain, with one Berlin gauntlet |v4chopstuck in the hough of his elboge ellboge pointedv4| (|4in by4| ancientest signlore his gesture meaning|4:4| |v4blank blank!) pointed at an angle of thirtytwo degreesv4| towards |v4the hisv4| duc de Fer's overgrown milestone |v4& asv4| the fellow |v4for tov4| his gage |v4andºv4| after a readypresent pause averred with solemn emotion's fire: Shsh shake, co-comrade! I have won straight. Hence my no-nationwide hotel and |v4general business creamery establishmentsv4| and for the honours of our mewmew mutual daughters|v4, credit me,v4| I am woowoo willing|v4, credit me, even if I get life for itv4| to take my stand, sir, upon the monument, that sign of our ruru redemption, any hygienic day |v4at tov4| this hour and to declare to my dear sinnfinners|v4, even if I get life for it,v4| upon the Open Bible |v4andv4| befu before the Great Taskmaster's eye (I lift my hat!) and in the Presence of the Deity Itself |v4as well as andwellv4| of my immediate withdwellers and of every living |v4sohule soholev4| in every corner wheresoever of this globe in general which useth |v4with ofv4| my British to my backbone tongue and commutative justice |v4even if I got life for it,v4| that there is not one tittle of truth, allow me to tell you, in that purest of fibfib fabrications. Gaping Gill, |4who,4| diagnosing |v4at oncev4| through his eustacetube that |v4he had it wasv4| to do with a markedly
postpuberal hyperpituitary type of |v4Heidelbergmanlike Heidelbergmannleichºv4| blank ethics, |v4bad him good murrough andv4| like a sensible ham thanked |v4him, sir, umv4| for guilders received and the time of day |v4bad him good murroughv4| (not a little |v4taken aback token abockv4| all the same that that was owl the God's clock it was) and went about his business, |v4wherever whoeverv4| it was, accompanied by his trusty snarler and his permanent reflection |v4ofv4|, |v4verbigracious:ºv4| I have met |v4withv4| you |v4either, |asir birda|,v4| too late, or if not, |v4|asir,a|v4| too |4worm and4| early: and repeated in his secondmouth language as many of the verbaten words |v4as whichv4| he could balbly |v4call |arecall calla|v4| to memory that same |v4evening kveldeve v4| when suppertide |4and souvenir4| |v4came gentlyv4| to |v4greyblue Charletan Charlatanv4| Mall |v4jointly kem gentlyv4| and along the quiet darkenings of Grand |v4& andv4| Royal, ff, |v4the flittmansfluh flitmansfluh,v4| and, kk, 't crept i' hedge |v4as |awhereas whenasa|v4| to many a softtongue's pawkytalk mude unswer |4a u4| sufter |v4pogyyog poghyyoghºv4|, while he spat in careful convertedness about his hearthstone, musefed with |v4thoughts his thou thockitsºv4| after having supped of the dish |v4named dabbedv4| Peach Bombay, a supreme of excelling peas |v4boiled balledv4| into whitemalt |v4winesowre and rootie winesourv4|, a proviand |v4which with a chaser of perryv4| he frankly relished, chaff it, in the raw season. Our cad's bit of strife with a quick ear for spittoons (as the aftertale hath it) gleaned up |v4with her usual domestic husbandry as usual with dumbestic husbandry & but v4| broke of the matter |v4with inv4| her usual curtsey the next night nudge one over a cup |v4o' cha a' chee after sodality kneelingv4| to her particular reverend, the director, whom she had been meaning in her mind primarily to speak with, trusting, between cuppled lips, it would slip no further than his jesuit's cloth, yet it was this |v4romish overspoiledv4| priest, Mr Browne, |v4in all human likelihood ,v4| disguised as a vicentian, who, when seized of the facts, was overheard|v4,v4| in his secondary personality as a Nolan, |v4andv4| by accident — if, |v4indeed that isv4|, the incident was an accident — to pianissime a slightly varied version of the words, hands between hands, in fealty sworn, and hushly pierce the rubiend ear of one Philly |v4Thornton |aThurston Thurnstona|v4|, a layteacher of rural science and |v4orthophonetics orthophonethicsv4| of a nearstout figure and |v4in aboutv4| the middle
of his forties, during a priestly flutter for safe and sane lds at the hippic runfields of breezy Baldoyle on a date easily capable of |v4remembrance rememberancev4| by all pickersup of Dublin details when the classic Encourage |v4Selling Hackneyv4| Plate was captured by two lengths from Bold Boy Cromwell after a clever getaway by Captain Chaplain Blount's roe hinny Saint Dalough (Drummer Coxon third) at breakneck odds, thanks to you, great little Winny Widger, who in his neverrip mud and |v4purple purpularv4| cap was surely |v4miles leaguesv4| unlike any other phantomweight that ever |v4topped the |atopped toppitºa| ourv4| timber maggies.
It was two coves of the name of Treacle Tom, as was just out of pawn following the theft of a leg of pork, and his own blood and milk brother |v4professionally known asv4| Frisky Shorty, a tipster come off the hulks, both of them
awful poor, what was out on the bumaround for an oofbird game for a jimmy o'goblin or a small thick un as chanced to ear wick their own hears the |v4parson passonv4| in the motor clobber make use of
|v4the hisv4| language which he was rubbing noses with and having a gurgle off his own along of the butty bloke in the specs. This Treacle Tom to whom reference has been made had been absent from his usual wild
and woolly haunts for some time previous to that (he was, in fact, in the habit of frequenting common lodginghouses where he slept|v4, hailfellow with meth,v4| in a nude
state|v4, hailfellow with meth,v4| in strange men's |4bunks
cots4|) but on racenight|v4,v4| blotto after divers tots of
rum|v4,v4| he sought his wellwarmed bed in a housingroom Abide With Oneanother at Block |v4W
W.W.v4|, Pump Court, The Liberties, and resnored alcoherently the substance of the tale of the evangelical |v4busybozzy bussybozzyv4|
in parts |v4more than oncev4| during uneasy slumber in |4the joint hearing their
hearings4| of a small and stonybroke cashdraper's ex-executive, Peter Cloran (discharged), O'Mara, an ex-private secretary of no fixed abode (locally known as Mildew Lisa) who had passed several nights, funnish enough, in a doorway under the blankets of homelessness on the bunk of iceland, and Hosty, an illstarred beachbusker who,
sans rootie and sans blank, feeling as how he was on |v4his thev4| verge of selfabyss with melancoholia over everything in general, had
been tossing on his shakedown, devising ways and manners of means of somehow or other getting a hold of some chap's parabellum in the hope of lighting upon a dive somewhere off the Dullkey Downlairy and Bleakrooky tramaline where he could go and blow the napper off himself in peace and
|v4quietness quietudev4|, he having been trying all he knew for |v4over upwards
ofv4| eighteen colanders to get into Jervis Street hosspittle without having been able to wangle it anysides. Lisa O'Dara and Roche Moran (who had so much incommon, if the phrase be permitted, hostis et odor insuper petroperfractus) as an understood thing slept in the one
|v4tumbler bed tumblerbedv4| with Hosty just how the shavers in the shaw |v4and a good night's rest und
rumble with his co-exes H was not the same manv4| and the bustling tweeny |v4dawn-of-all-work
dawn-of-all-worksºv4| had not been |v4very many hours many jiffiesv4| furbishing potlids,
doorbrasses, scholars' applecheeks and linkboys' metals when the rejuvenated busker |v4(for after a goodnight's rave and rumble with his coexes he was not the same man)v4| and his broadawake bedroom suite were up and ashuffle cross Ebblinn's cold
hamlet to the |4thrumming thrummings4| of a crewth fiddle which caressed the ears of the subjects of King Finnerty the Festive, who, with their mouths all open, were only halfpast asleep, and, after a prolonged
visit to a house of call in Cujas Place not a thousand |v4or onev4| national leagues from the site of the statue of Primewer Glasstone setting a match to the march of a blank, where, the tale rambles
|v4on alongv4|, the trio of whackfolthediddlers |v4were shortly wasv4| joined by a further-intentions-apply-tomorrow casual and a decent sort of the hadbeen variety who had just been touching the weekly insult, phew it, and all had stimulants in the shape of |v4fivev4| gee and gees stood by the damn decent sort after which stag luncheon and a few ones more |v4justv4| to celebrate yesterday, flushed with their firestufffostered friendship, the rascals came out of the licensed premises (Browne first, the small p.s. ex-ex-executive |v4in the sad rear of them, capahand, capahand in their sad rearv4| like a lady's postscript: I want money. Pleasend.) wiping their laughleaking lipes on their sleeves, |v4andv4| the world was the richer for a wouldbe ballad. This was first poured forth |v4to the added strains of his majesty the flute which, Delany, the decent sort drew out of his hat, looking still more like his namesake as men noted the snowy crested curl amid his wild & moulting hairv4| under the shadow of the monument of the shouldhavebeen legislator to an overflow meeting of all the nations in Lenster fullyfilling the visional area and easily representative of all sections and cross sections of our liffeyside people ranging
from slips of young dublinos from Cutpurse Row having nothing |v4betterv4| to do |v4except thanv4| walk about |v4withv4| their hands in their kneepants side by side with truant officers, corporation bucket emergencymen in search of an honest crust to busy professional gentlemen, a brace of palesmen |v4with dundrearies v4| fresh from snipehitting |v4& andv4| mallardmissing on Rutland Heath |v4with dundrearies exchanging, exchangingºv4| cold sneers, massgoing
ladies from Hume Street in their chairs, some wandering hamalegs |v4from out ofv4| the adjacent cloverfields, an oblate father from Skinner's Alley, bricklayers, a fleming|4,º fumant,4| with spouse and dog, an aged |v4barehead hammersmithv4| who had some chisellers by the hand, not a few sheep with the braxy, |v4three twov4| bluecoat scholars, three broke gents out of Simpson's suffering hell's delights from their horns, |v4and so onv4| not forgetting a deuce of dianas ridy for the hunt, a particularist prebendary pondering on the roman easter, the tonsure question |v4& andv4| greek uniates, plunk em, |v4one or two and so on down to a fewv4| good old souls |v4obviously evidentlyv4| under the spell of liquor|v4,º a fair girl, a jolly postboy thinking off three flagons andv4| one who clings |v4& andv4| clings |v4& andv4| clings to |v4the her v4| cloudhued |v4petticoat pittycoatºv4| as child, as curiolater, as Caoch O'Leary.
Word |v4poured wentv4| round, so it did, and the ballad, printed on a slip of |4blancowhite |ablancowfhite, blancovide anda|4| headed by a rough and red woodcut, soon fluttered on white highway and brown byway to the rose of the winds and the |v4whispery blew of thev4| gaels, from green |v4laneway archwayv4| to gold lattice and from black hand to pink ear, village crying to village, |v4throughout throughv4| the five pussyfours of the united states of Scotia Picta. |v4The chickpea would a rolling go whether our farmer would have it or no.v4|
|v4Amid a perfect downpour of plaudits among the rapsods Toº the added strains of his majesty the flute which Delaney, anticipating a perfect downpour of plaudits among the
rapsods, drew out of his decentsoort hat, looking still more like his namesake as men noted the
snowycrested curl amoist his wild and moulting hair,ºv4| Hitchcock hoisted his fezzy fuzz at bludgeon's height for “silentium in curia!” and the canto was chantied |v4near there byv4| the old tollgate. |v4So Andv4| around the |v4land this lannº thev4| rann it |v4ran rannv4| and this is the rann that Hosty made.
|v4⇑ Sure leave Arrah, |alave leavea|v4| it to Hosty, frosty Hosty, leave it to Hosty for he's the |v4man mannv4| to rhyme the rann, the rann, the rann, the king of all wranns. |v4So:v4| Have you here? Have we where? Have you hered? Have we whered? It's |v4coming cummingv4|! It's |v4bromming brummingv4|! The clip, the clop! |v4the (blank THE (klikkaklakkaklaskaklopatzklatschabattacreppycrottygraddaghsemmihsammihnouithappluddyappladdypkonpkot!)ºv4|
BALLAD OF PERSSE O'REILLY
(as sung by Phoblacht)
|v4Sh sh sh! Sh sh sh! Sh! Sh! Sh!ºv4|
Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty
How he fell with a roll and a rumble
And curled up like Lord |v4Oliver Olofav4| Crumple
By the butt of the Magazine Wall,
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,
To the jail of Mountjoy.
Jail him and joy.
He had schemes by the score 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 religious reform,
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.
His butter is in his horns.
Butter his horns!
Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt on ye, rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns!
We had chops, chairs, chewing gum, the chickenpox and china chambers
Universally supplied by this softsoaping salesman.
Small wonder He'll Cheat blank our local lads nicknamed him
When Chimpden first took the floor
And he took the floor,
O'er and o'er.
So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous
But soon we'll bonfire all his trash and his trumpery
And 'tis short till Sheriff Clancy'll be winding up his unlimited company
With the bailiff's bum at the door,
With a bum at the door.
He'll bum no more.
Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island
The hooker of that hammerfast viking
And God's curse on the day when Eblana Bay
Saw his black and tan man-o'-war,
Saw his man-o'-war
On the harbour bar.
Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls, Donnezmoi scampitle, wick an wipin' fampiny
Fingal MacOscar Onesime Bargearse Boniface
Thok's min gammelhole Norveegickes moniker
Og as ay are at gammelhole Norveegickes cod.
A Norwegian camelold cod.
He is, begod.
Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! Up with the rann, the rhyming rann!
It was during some freshwater garden pumping
Or, according to the Nursing Mirror, while admiring the monkeys
That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey
Made bold a maid to woo.
Hoo, what'll she doo!
She lost her maidenloo!
He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher,
To go and shove himself that way on top of her.
Begob, he's the crux of the catalogue
Of our antediluvial zoo,
Messrs Billing and Coo.
Noah's larks, good as noo.
He was joulting by Wellinton's monument
Our rotarian hippopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus
And he caught his death of fusiliers,
With his rent in his rears.
Give him six years.
'Tis sore pity for his two 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?
Big earwigs on the green,
The largest ever you seen.
Then we'll have a free trade band and mass meeting
For to sod the brave son of Scandinavia
And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown
Along with the devil and Danes,
With the devil and 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
That's able to raise a Cain.