Chuffy was a nangel then and his soard fleshed light like likening. Fools top! Singty sangty meekly loose, defendy nous from prowlabouts. Make a shine on the curst. Emem.
But the duvlin sulph was in Glugger, that lost-to-lurning. Punct. He was sbuffing and sputing, tussing like anisine, whipping his eysoult and gnatsching his teats over the brividies from existers and the outher liubbocks of life. He halth kelchychosen a clayblade and makes prayses to his
three of clubs. To part from thees, my corsets, is into overlusting fear. Acts of feet, hoof and jarrety|7: alth athles longfoot7|. Djowl, uphere!
Aminxt that nombre of evelings, but how pierceful in their sojestiveness, were those first girly stirs, with zitterings of flight releashed and twinglings of twitchbells in rondel after, with waverings that made shimmershake rather nightily all the duskscended airs and shylit beaconings from shehind hims back. Sammy, call
on! Mirrylamb, she was shuffering all the diseasinesses of the unherd of. Mary Louisan Shousapinas! If Arck could no more salve his agnols from the wiles of willy woolly woolf! If all the |7airig7| signics of her dipandump helpabit |7from an Father Hogamº till the Mutther Masons7| could not that Glugg to catch her by the calour of her brideness! Not Rose, Sevilla nor Citronelle; not Esmeralde, Pervinca nor Indra; not Viola even nor all of them four themes over. But|7, the mouthageº stick in the melmelode jawr, I am (twintomine) all thees thing.7| |7up Up7| tighty in the front, down again on the loose, drim and drumming on her back and a pop from her whistle. What is that, O holytroopers? |7Isot givin yoe?7|
Up he stulpled, glee you gees with search a mug did die near sea, beamy owen and calmy hugh, and if you what you my call for me I will wishyoumaycull for you.
And they are met, face a facing. They are set, force to force. And no such Copenhague-Marengo was less so fated for a fall since in Glenasmole of Smiling Thrushes Patch Whyte passed O'Sheen ascowl.
Arrest thee, scaldbrother! came the evangelion, sabre accusant, from all Saint Joan's Wood to kill or maim him, and be dumm but ill s'arrested. Et would proffer to his delected one the his trifle from the grass.
A space. Who are you? The cat's mother. A time. What do you lack? The look of a queen.
But what is that which one is going to prehend? seeks buzzling is brains the feinder.
|7⇒ The howtosayto itiswhatis hemustwhomust worden schall. A darktonguesº kunning. |aO theoperil!a| Ethiopº lore, the poor lie!º7|
He askit of the hoothed fireshield but it was untergone into the matthued heaven. He soughed it from the luft but that bore ne mark ne message. He luked upon the bloomingrund where ongly his corns were growning. At last he listed back to beckline how she pranked alone so johntily.
With nought a wired from the wordless either.
|7He was hardset then. He wented to go (somewhere) while he was weeting. He wished to grieve on the good persons, that
is the four gentlemen. And it was not a long time till he was feeling true forim
he was goddaº purssia and it was short after that he was fooling mehaunt to mehynte he was an injine ruber. He was at his |atinker's thinker'sºa| auntsº to give (the four gentlemen) the presence (of a curpse). And this is what he would be willing. He fould the fourd; they found the hurtled stones; they fell ill with the gravy duck: and he sod town with the roastº of the meast.7|
Ah ho! This poor Glugg! It was so said of him about of his old fontmouther. Truly deplurabel! A dire, O dire! And all the freightfulness whom he inhebited after his colline born janitor. Sometime towerable! With that hehry antlets on him and the baublelight bulching out of his sockets whiling away she sprankled his allover with her noces of interregnation: How do you do that lack a lock and pass the poker, please? |7And bids him knight tend her, lute and airly. Sing, sweetharp, thing to me anone!7| So that Glugg, the poor one, in that limbopool which was his subnesciousness he could scares of all knotknow whither his morrder had bourst a blabber or if the vogalstones that hit his tynpan was that mearly his skoll missed her. Misty's trompe or midst his flooting? Ah, ho! Cicely, awe!
The youngly delightsome frilles-in-pleyurs are now showen drawen, if bud one, or, if in florileague, drawens up consociately at the hinder sight of their commoner guardian. Her boy fiend, or theirs, if they are so plurielled, cometh up as a trapadour, sinking how he must fend for himself by gazework what their colours wear as they are all showen drawens up. Tireton, cacheton, tireton, bas!
Doth that not satisfy youth, sir? O quanty purty bellas here, Madama Lifay! And what are you going to charm them to, Madama, do say? Cinderynelly angled her slipper; it was cho chiny yet braught her a groom. At next lineup he will angskt of them from their commoner guardian (who is really the rapier of the two, though thother brother can hold his own, espacially for he bandishes it with his hand
the hold time, mamain) a simply gratious: |7Mi,7| O la! and reloose that thong off his art: Hast thou feel liked carbunckley ones? Apun which his poohoor pricoxity theirs
is a little tittertit of hilarity (Lad-o'-me-soul! Lad-o'-me-soul, see!) and the wordchary is atvoiced ringsoundingly by their toots enssembled, though not meaning to be clever but just with a shrug of their hips, to go to troy and harff a freak at himself by all that's tory to the ulstramarines. Otherwised|7, holding their noises,7| they insinuate quiet private|7, Ni,7| he make peace in his preaches and play with esteem.
Warewolff! Olff! Toboo!
So olff for his topheetuck the ruck made raid, aslick aslegs would run, and he ankered on his hunkers with the belly belly prest. Asking: What's my muffinstuffinaches for thease times? To weat: Breath and bother and
whatarcurss. Then breath more bother and more whatarcurss. Then no breath no bother but worrawarrawurms. And Shim shallave shome.
As Rigagnolina to Mountagnone, what she meaned he could not can. All she meaned was golten sylvup, all she meaned was some knight's ploung jamn. It's driving her dafft like he's so dumnb. If he'd lonely talk instead of only gawk as thought Yateman hat stuck hits stick athrought his spoke and if he woold nut wolly so! Hee. Speak, sweety bird! Mitzymitzy! Though I did ate tough turf I'm not the bogdoxy.
— Have you monbreamstone?
— Or Hellfeuersteyn?
— Or Van Diemen's coral pearl?
He has lost.
Off to clutch, Glugg! Forewheel! Shape your reres, Glugg! Forweal! Ring we round, Chuff! Fairwell! Chuffchuff's inner seven: all's rice with their whorl!
Yet, ah tears, who can her mater be? She'd promised he'd eye her. To try up her pretti. But now it's so longed and so fared and so forth. Jerry for jauntings. Alabye! Fled.
The flossies all and mossies all, they drooped upon her draped brimfall. The bowknots, the showlots, they wilted into woeblots.
The pearlagraph, the pearlagraph, knew whitchly whether to weep or laugh. For always down in Carolinas lovely Dinahs vaunt their view.
Poor Isa sids a glooming, so gleaming in the gloaming; the tincelles a touch tarnished wind no lovelinoise awound her swan's. Hey, lass! Woefear gleams she so glooming this pooripathete Isolde? Her beauman's gone of a cool. Be good enough to symperise. If he's at anywhere she's therefor to join him. If it's to nowhere she's going to too. But if he'll go to be
a son to France's she'll stay daughter of Clare. Bring tansy, throw myrtle, strew rue, rue, rue. She is fading out like Journee's clothes so you can't see her now. Still we know how Day the Dyer works, in dims and deeps and dusks and darks. And among the shades that Eve's now wearing she'll meet anew fiancy, tryst and trow. Mammy was, Mimmy is, Minuscoline's to
be. In the Dee dips a dame and the dame desires a demselle but the demselle dresses dolly and the dolly does a dulcydamble. The same renew. For though she's unmerried she'll after truss up and help that hussyband how to hop. Hip it and trip it and chirrub and sing. Lord Chuffy's sky sheraph and Glugg's got to swing.
So and so, toe by toe, to and fro they go round, for they are the ingelles, scattering nods as girls who may, for they are an angel's garland.
Catchmire stockings, libertyed garters, shoddyshoes quicked out with selver. Pennyfeir caps on pinnyfore frocks and a ring on her fomefing finger. And they leap so looply, looply, as they link to light. And they look so loovely, loovelit, noosed in a nuptious night. Withasly glints in. Andecoy glants out. They ramp it a little, a lessle, a lissle. Then rompride round in rout.
Say them all but tell them apart, cadenzando coloratura! R is Rubretta and A is Arancia, Y is for Yilla and N for greeneriN. B is Boyblue with odalisque O while W waters the fleurettes of novembrance. Though they're all but merely a schoolgirl yet these way went they. I' th' view o' th' avignue dancing goes entrancing roundly. Miss Oodles of Anems before the
Luvium doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. And Miss Endles of Eons efter Dies
of Eirae doeslike. So. And then again doeslike. So. The many wiles of Winsure.
The grocer's bawd she slips her hand in the haricot bag, the lady in waiting sips her sup from the paraffin can, Mrs Wildhare Quickdoctor helts her skelts up the casuaway the flasht instinct she herds if a tinkle of tunder, the widow Magrievy she knits cats' cradles, this bountiful actress leashes a harrier under her tongue, and here's the girl who she's kneeled in coldfeshion and she's toold her priest (spt!) she's pot on a chap (chp!), and this lass not least this rickissime woman who she writes foot fortunes money times over in the nursery dust with her capital thumb. Buzz. All runaway sheep bound back bopeep, trailing their teens behind them. And these ways wend they. And those ways wend they. Winnie, Olive and Beatrice, Nelly and Ida, Amy and Rue. Here they come back, all the gay pack, for they are the florals, from foncey and pansey to papavere's blush, forsake-me-nought, while there's leaf there's hope, with primtim's ruse and marrymay's blossom, all the flowers of the ancelles' garden.
But vicereversi thereout from those palms of perfection to anger arbour, |7treerack monatan, scourcelyº out of scout of ocean,7| virid with woad, what tornaments of complementary rages racked the divlun from his punchpoll to his tummy's shentre as he displaid all the oathword science of his visible disgrace! He was feeling so funny and floored for the cue, all over which girls as he don't know whose hue. If goosseys gazious would but fain smile him a smile he would be fondling a praise he ate some nice bit of fluff. But no geste reveals the unconnouth. And they're all odds against him, the beasties. Scratch. Start.
He dove his head into Wat Murrey, gave Stewart Ryall a puck on the plexus, wrestled a hurry-come-union with the Gille Beg, wiped all his sinses, martial and menial, out of Shrove Sundy MacFearsome, excremuncted
as freely as any frothblower into MacIsaac, had a belting bout, chaste to chaste, with McAdoo abutt nothing and, childhood's age being aye the shameleast, tel a Tartaran tastarin toothsome tarrascone tourtoun, vestimentivorous chlamydophagian, imbretellated himself for any time untellable
with what hung over |7to the |aMaconochie Machonochiea| Middle7| from the MacSiccaries of the Breeks. Home!
Allwhile|7, moush misquiesº from mungy
mousieº,7| preying in his mind, |7son of
Everallin,7| within himself he swure. |7Macnoon maggoty
mag!º7| Cross of a coppersmith bishop! He would split. He do big squeal like |7(+infornertympus+)7| holy
Trichepatte. Seek hellswhere |7from yank islanders the petriote's7| absolation.
|7Mocknitza! Genik!7| He take skiff |7come first
dagrene day |aoverwide tumbler, rough and dark, till when bow of the shower show of the
bower,ºa|7| with three shirts and a wind, |7pagoda permettant,
crookolevante,º7| the bruce, the coriolano and the ignacio. |7|aFrom prudals to the secular but from the cumman to the
nowter.a| Byebye, Brassolis, I'm breaving! Our war, Dully Gray! A conansdream of lodascircles, he here schlucefinis.
Gelchasser no more!7| Mischnary |7for the minestrary7| to all the sems of Aram, Shimach,
son of Ere. Mum's for's maxim, ban's for's book and Dodgesome Dora for hedgehung sheolmastress. |7And Unkel Silanse coach in diligence.
|aDisconnection of the succeeding.a|7| He wholehog himself |7for carberry
banishment7| care of Pencylmania, Bretish Armerica, to melt Mrs Gloria of the Bunkers' Trust, recorporated |7(prunty!)7|, by meteoromancy and linguified heissrohgin, quit to
|7hail a Hu hurry laracor and7| catch the Paname-Turricum and regain that
|7absendee7| tarry easty, his città immediata, by an alley and detour, with farecard awailable getrennty years. |7Right for Rovy the
Roder.7| From the safe side of distance! Libera nostalgia! Beate Laurentie O'Tuli! Euro pra nobis! Every monk his own cashel where every little ligger is his own liogotenente with inclined jambs in full purview to his pronaose and to the deretane at his reredoss. Fuisfinister, fuyerescaper! He would,
|7with the greatest of ease,7| before of |7going weighting midhook, by
dear home trashold on the raging canal, for othersites of Jordenº (heave a hevy, waterboy!)7|, make one of hissens
|7with a knockonacow and a chow collegions7| and fire off|7,
gheol ghiornal, foull subustioned mullmud,7| his farced epistol to the hibruws. |7From
Cernilius,º |aslomtimea| titular of
Toumaria,º to the clutch in Anteach.7| Salvo! |7Ledigsº
and jointuremen!7| No more turdenskaulds! Free leaves for ebribadies! All tinsammon in the
yord! With harm and aches till Farther alters! Wild primates not stop him |7frem at rearing a writing in handy antics7|. Nom de plume! Gout strap Fenlanns! And send Jarge for Mary Inklenders. |7And daunt you logh if his vineshanky's schwemmy!7| For he is the general, make no mistake in he. He is General Jinglesome.
Go in for scribenery with the satiety of arthurs in S.P.Q.R.ish and inform to the old sniggering publicking press and its nation of sheepcopers about the whole plighty troth between them, malady of milady made melodi of malodi, she, the lalage of lyonesses, and him, her knave arrant. |7To Wildrose La Gilligan from Croppy Crowhore.7| For all within crystal range.
Ukalepe. Loathers' Lave. Nemo in Patria. The Luncher Out. Skilly and Carubdish. A Wondering Wreck. From the Mermaids' Tavern. Bullyfamous. Naughseecalves. Mother of Misery. Walpurgas Nackt.
|7Maleesh!7| He would bare to untired world |7of
Leimunconnulstriaº (and what a strip poker globbtrottel they pairs would looks!)7| how Wholephallows, his guffer, the sabbatarian (might faction split his beard!), he too had a
greak big oh in the megafundum of his tomashunders and how Her Lettyshape, his gummer, that congealieel sponsar, she had never cessed at waking malters among the jemassons since the cluft that meataxe delt her made her microchasm as gap as down low. So they fished in the kettle and fought free and if she bit his tallibont all had tiffin for tea. He would jused sit it all write down just as he
would jused set it up all writhefully rate in blotch and voide, yielding to no man in hymns ignorance seeing how heartsilly sorey he was, owning to the condrition of his bikestool. And, reading off his fleshskin and writing with his quillbone, fillfull nine quires with it for his auditers, Caxton and Pollock, a most moraculous jeerymyhead, sindbook for all the peoples, under the presidency of the
suchess of sceauonsceau, a hadtobe heldin, thoroughly enjoyed by many so meny on block at Boyrut season and for their account ottorly admired by her husband in sole intimacy, about whose told his innersense and the grusomehed's
yoeureeke of his spectrescope and why he was off colour and how he was ambothed upon by the very spit of himself first on the cheakside by Michelangelo and then, besouns thats, on the owld jowly side by Bill C. Babby, and the suburb's formule why they provencials drollo eggspilled him out of his homety domety narrowedknee domum (osco de basco de pesco de bisco!) because all his creature comfort was an omulette finas erbas in anark finis orbe and, no master how mustered, mind never mend, he would neither swink in nonneither swimp in the flood of cecialism and the best and schortest way of blacking out a caughtalook of all the sorrors of Sexton until he would accoster her coume il fou in teto-dous as a wagoner would his mudheeldy wheesindonk at their trist in Parisise after tourments of tosend years, breads cast out on waters, making goods at mutuurity, Mondamoiseau of Casanuova, and Mademoiselle from Armentières. Neblonovi's Nivonovio! Nobbio and Nuby in ennoviacion! Occitantitempoli! He would sit through severalls of sanctuaries maywhatmay mightwhomight so as to meet somewhere if produced
on a demipanssion for his whole lofetime, payment in gootoslee Music and poisonal comfany, following which, like Ipsey Secumbe, when he fing an to foil the fluter, she could have all the g. s. M. she moohooed after fore and rickwards to herslF, including science of sonorous silence, while he, being brung up on soul butter, have recourse of course to poetry. With, for his coronachion, tears such as engines weep. Was liffe worth leaving? Nej!
Tholedoth, treetrene! Zokrahsing, stone!
Arty, reminiscensitive, at bandstand finale on grand carriero, dreaming largesse of lifesighs over early lived offs — all old Sator of the Sowsceptre's highly nutritius family histrionic, genitricksling with Avus and Avia, that simple pair, and descendant down on veloutypads by a vuncular process to Nurus and Noverca, those notorious nepotists, circumpictified in their sobrine
census, patriss all of them by the glos on their germane faces and their socerine eyes like transparents of vitricus, patruuts to a man, the archimade levirs of his ekonome world. |7Remember thee, castle
throwen?7| Ones propsperups treed, now stohony baroque. And oil paint use a pumme if yell trace
me there title to where was a hovel not a havel (the first rattle of his juniverse) with a tingtumtingaling and a next, next and next (gin a paddy? got a petty? gussies, gif it ope?), while itch ish shome.
— My Cod, alas, that dear old tumtum home
Whereof in youthfood's port I preyed
Amonk thy verdigrassy convinct wallsall dazed
And cloitered for amourmeant in thy boosome shede!
His mouthfull of ecstasy (for Shing-Yung-Thing in Shina from Yoruyume across the Timor Sea), hereapong (maladventure!) shot pinging upthrough the errorooth of his wisdom |7(who thought him|a, a Fonar all,a| feastking of shellies |aby googling Lovvey, regally feytheredº, eagelly plumed,a| and wasbut gumboil owrithy prodsº wretched |asomea| horseyº megee plods coffin acid odarkery pluds dense floppens mugurdy)º7| as thought it had been zawhen intwo. Wholly's anguish blooded up disconvulsing the fixtures of his fizz. Apang which his temporychewer med him a crazy chump of a Haveajube Sillsyass. Joshua Croesus, son of Nunn! Though he shall live for millions of years a life of billions of years, |7from their roseaced glows to their violast lustres,7| he shall not forget that pucking Pugases. Holihowlsballs and bloody acres! Like gnawthing unheardth!
But, by Jobe, Chronides, Seed of Summ, after at he had bate his breastplates for, forfor, forforget, forforgetting his birdsplace, it was soon that, that he, that he rehad himself. By a prayer? No, that comes later. By contrite attrition? Nay, that we passed. Mid esercizism? So is richt.
And it was so. |7And Malthos Moramor resumed his soul. With: go Ferchios off to
Allad out of this! |aAn oldsteinsong.a|7| He threwed his fit up to his aers, rolled his poligone eyes, snivelled from his snose and blew the guff out of his hornypipe.
|7The hopjointº jerk of a ladle broom |s+jigs+| that he learned
in locofoco when a redhot |aturnspit turnspitea| he. Under reign of
old Roastin the Bowl.º Ratskillers, readyos! Why was that man for he's doin her
wrong?º7| Lookery looks, how he's knots in his entrails! Mookery mooks, it's a grippe of his gripes. Seekeryseeks, why his biting he's head off?
Cokerycokes, it's his spurt of coal. |7And may his tarpitch dilute not give him chromitis! For the mauwe that blinks you blank is mostly Carbo. |aWhere the |binflammable inflammabilisb| might pursuive his comburenda with a pure flame and a true flame and a flame alltoogasser. Soot.ºa|7| The worst is over. Wait! |7And the Dubunyº Mag may gang to preesses. With Dinny Finneen, me cantyº ho! |aIn the lost of the gleamens. Sousymoust.a|7| For he would himself deal a treatment as might be trusted in anticipation of his inculmination unto fructification for the major operation. When |7(pip!)7| a message interfering intermitting interskips from them |7(pet!)7| on herzian waves |7(call her venicey names! call her a stell!)7|, a butterfly from her zipclasped handbag, a wounded dove astarted from, escaping out her forecotes. |7Isle wail for yews, O doherlynt!º The poetesser.º7| And around its scorched cap she has twilled a twine of flame to let the laitiest know how she's marrid. And pim it goes backballed. Tod burns it so leste. |7A claribel cumbeck to errind.7| Hers before his even, posted ere penned. He's your change, thinkyou methim! Go daft noon madden, mind the step. Please stoop O to please. Stop. What saying? I have soreunder from to him now, dearmate ashore, so, O so comepleasely, though I'd much rather not, Pepette, till I can get redressed. Like things are, m.ds. is all in vincibles, which means the end of my stays in the languish of Tingtangle. Is you zealous of mes, brother? Did you boo moiety lowd? You suppoted to be the on conditionally reejected? Satanly, lade! Can that sobstuff, Whingeywilly! Stop up, mavrose, and sit in my lap. Decoded.
Now a run for his money! Now a dash to her dot! |7Old cocker, young crowy, sifadda, sosson. A bran, newº speedhoundº,
outstripperous on the wind.7| Like a waft to wingweary one or a sos to a coastguard. For directly with his whoop, stoop and an upalepsy didando a tishy, in appreciably less time than it takes a glaciator to submerger an Atlangthis, was he again, agob, before the trembly ones, a
spark's gap off, doubledasguesched, gotten orlop in a simplasailormade and shaking the storm out of his hiccups. The smartest vessel you could find would elazilee him on her knee as her lucky for the Rio Grande. He's a pigtail tarr
and if he hadn't got it toothick he'd a telltale
tall of his pitcher on a wall with his photure in the papers for cutting moutonlegs and capers, letting on he'd jest be japers and his tail cooked up.
Goal! It's one by its length.
Angelinas, hide from light those hues that your ain beau may bring to night! Though down to your dowerstrip he's bent to knee he maun't know ledgings here.
For a haunting way will go and you need not make your mow. Find the frenge for frocks and translace it into shocks of such as touch with show and show.
He is guessing at hers for all he is worse, the seagoer. Hark to his wily geeses goosling by, and playfair, lady. And note that they who will for exile say can for dog while them that won't leave ingle end says now for know.
For he faulters how hehates to trouble them withbut.
But leaving codhead's mitre and the heron's plumes sinistrant to the server of servants and rex of regums and making a balderdash for lubberty of speech, he asks not have you seen a match being struck nor is this powder mine but, letting punplay pass to ernest:
— Haps thee jaoneofergs?
— Haps thee mayjaunties?
— Haps thee per causes nunsibelli?
— Asky, asky! Gau on! Micaco! Get!
Ping an ping nwan ping pwan pong.
And he did a get, their anayance, and slink his hook away, aleguere come alaguerre, like a chimista in chamisas, whom the harricana hurries and hotz foots, zingo zango, segur! To hoots of utskut, urqurd, jamal, qum, yallah, yawash, yak! For he could ciappacioppachew upon a skarp snakk of pure undefallen engelsk, melanmoon or tartatortoise, tsukisaki or soppisuppon, as raskly and as baskly as
your cheesechalk cow cudd spanich. Makoto! Whagta kriowday! Gelagala nausy is. Yet right divining do not
was. Hovobovo hafogate hokidimatzi ni kamicha! He had his sperrits all foulen on him; to vet, most griposly, he was bedizzled and debuzzled; he had his tristiest cabaleer on; and he looked like bruddy Hal. A shelling a cockshy and be donkey shot at? Or a peso besant to join the armada?
But, Sin Showpanza, could annybroddy |7which walked this world with eyes whiteopen7| have looked twinsomer than the kerl he left behind him? Candidatus, viridosus, aurilucens, sinelab!
|7Of all the green heroes everwore cotanº breiches, the whitemost, the goldenest!7| How he stud theirs
mookst kevinly, |7and that anterevolitionary, the churchman childfather from tonsor's tuft to almonder's toes,7| a hajjiography in duotrijesumy, |7son soptimost of sire sixtusks, of Mayaqueenies signosureº, hevnly buddhy time,7| inwreathed of his nearcissies, a mickly dazzley eely oily with looiscurrals, a soulnetzer by zvesdals priestessd, their trail the tractive |7(and dem dandypanies knows de play of de eyelids)7|, with his gamecox spurts and his smile likuid glue (the suessiest sourir ever weanling wore), whiles his host of faceful spritties, lusspillerindernees, they went peahenning a ripidarapidarpad around him, pilgrim prinkips, kerilour kevinour, in neuchoristic congressulations, quite purringly excited rpdrpd, allauding to him by all the licknames in the litany with the terms in which no little dulsy nayer ever thinks about implying except to her future's yea and sending him perfumemost praypuffs to setisfire more then to teasim (shllwe help, now you've massmuled, you t'rigolect a bit? yismik? yimissy?) that he, the finehued, the fairhailed, the farahead, might bouchesave unto each but everyone, asfar as safras durst assune, the havemercyonhurs of his kissier licence. Meanings: |7Andure the enjurious till |aimbetther imbettrerºa|.7| We know you like Latin with essies impures |7(and your liber as they sea)7|, we |7certney like7| gurgles |7like love7| the nargleygargley so, arrahbeejee, tell that old frankay boyuk to bellows up the tombucky in his tumtum argan and give us a gust of his gushy old. Goof!
Hymnumber twentynine. O, the singing! Happy little girlycums to have adolphted such an Adelphus! O, the swingswung hopops so goholden! They've come to chant en chor. They say
their salat, the mahdiens' prayer to the messiager of His Nabis, prostitating their selfs eachwise and combinedly. Fateha, fold the hands. Be it honoured, bow the head. May thine evings e'en be blossful! Even of bliss! As we sohope for ablution. For the sake of the farbung and of the scent and of the holiodrops. Amemus.
A long pause. Their orison arises misquewhite as Osman glory, ebbing wasteward, leaves to the soul of light its fading silence (allahlah lahlah lah!), a turquewashed sky. Then:
— Xanthos! Xanthos! Xanthos! We think to thine, mighty innocent, that diddest bring it off fuitefuite. Should in ofter years it became about you will after desk jobduty becoming a bank midland mansioner we and I shall reside with our obeisant servants among Burke's mobility at La Roserie, Ailesbury Road. Red bricks are all hellishly good values if you trust to the roster
of ads but we'll save up ourselves and nab what's nicest |7and boskiest of timber trees7| in the nebohood.
|7Oncaill's plot. |aLuccombe oaks, Turkish hazels,
Greek firs, incense |ayews palms,ºa|
edcedras. The hypsometers of Mount Anville is held to be dying out of arthataxis but,
praise send Larix U'Thuleº,
the wych elm of Manelagh is still flourishing in |bour theb| openº because it'sº native of our nature and the seeds was sent by Fortune.a|7| We'll have our private palypeachum pillarposterns for lovesick letterines fondly affianxed to our front railings and swings, hammocks, tighttaught balletlines, accomodationnooks and prismic bathboites to make Envyeyes mouth water and wonder when they binocular us from their embrassured windows in our garden rare. Fyat-Fyat shall be our number on the autokinaton and Chubby in his Chuffs oursforownly chuffeur. T will be waiting for uns as I sold U at the first antries. Our cousin gourmand, Percy, the pup, will denounce the sniffnomers of all callers whereamong our Seemyease Sister, Tabitha, the ninelived, will extend to the full her hearthy welcome. |7While the turf and twigs they tattle. Tintin tintin.7| Lady Marmela Shortbred will walk in for supper with her marchpane switch on and her necklace of almonds and her poirette Sundae dress with bracelets of honey and her cochineal hose with the caramel dancings, the briskly best from Booteestown, and her suckingstaff of ivory mint.
You mustn't miss it or you'll be sorry. Charmeuses chloes, glycering juwells, lydialight fans and puffumed cynarettes. And the Prince Le Monade has been graciously pleased. His six chocolate pages will run bugling before him and Cococream toddle after with his sticksword in a pink cushion. We think His Sparkling Headiness ought to know Lady Marmela. |7Luisome his for lissome hers.7| He's not going to Cork till Cantalamesse or mayhope till Rose Easter or Saint Tibble's Day. |7So Niomon knows.7| The Fomor's in his Fin, the Momor's her and hin. A paaralone! A paaralone! And Dublin's all adin. We'll sing a song of Singlemonth and you'll too and you'll. Here are notes. There's the key. One two three. Chours! So come on, ye wealthy gentrymen wib frufrocksfull of fun! Thin thin! Thin thin! Thej olly and thel ively, thou billy with thee coo, for to jog a jig of a crispness nice and sing a missal too. Hip champouree! Hiphip champouree! O you longtailed blackman, polk it up behind me! Hip champouree! Hiphip champouree! And, jessies, push the pumkik round. Anneliuia!
Since the days of Roamaloose and Rehmoose the pavanos have been strident through their struts of Chapelldiseut, the vaulsies have meed and youdled through the purly ooze of Ballybough, many a mismy cloudy has tripped taintily along that hercourt strayed reelwey and the rigadoons have held ragtimed revels on the plateauplain of Grangegorman; and, though since then sterlings and guineas have
been replaced by brooks and lions and some progress has been made on stilths and the races have come and gone and Thyme, that chef of seasoners, has made his usual astewte use of endadjustables and whatnot willbe isnor was, those danceadeils and cancanzanies
have come stimmering down for our begayment through the bedeafdom of po's taeorns, the obcecity of pa's teapucs, as lithe and limbfree limber as when momie mummed at ma.