While |4way back home4| in Pacata Hibernia, |4little land,4| one word burrowing on another, Standfest, our topical hero, signs is on his big bastile back and his white patch, the towelturbaned, and Flower, a silvering for her jubilee with eve's birch leaves for her jointure, our lady in waving, girt with a wraparound, visage full of flesh and fat as hen's in forehead, Airyanna and Blowybart, that royal pair, in their |4ofttimes slated4| house of the hundred bottles, a palace of quicken boughs, hight, the Goat and Compasses (phone number 17:69 if you want to know) discusst the past, his sea arms round her, her eyne ashipwracked, the angerache of their love and the hungerbrood it bore em, scribbledehobbles, in whose veins runs a mixture of, are head bent hard upon their pensums.
It is turned of seven with eight chimes all tolled. Dogs' vespers are at end. Yet wind will be ere fruminy time |4and the saying of fadervor4| be come and asterisks answer the most devouted of us
|4until it gets bright & all cocks waken4|. Flying too are the evenbirds. And, for one superstationer at least, the hearse of the kine shall
pass at last |4before the 2 birds outbreak in dawnsong4|. What a terrible piece of business surely for such as keep his peace and follow his
war, that old king |4of the sevencoloured sundaysuit4| must be killed offº withsamt his dam and embalmed in honey for dynastic continuity, rivers breaking forth for joy at his funeral!
But trifid tongue, others woo will and work for, becaused of his cleverism, |4till his very foes' heads are turned,4| and dove without gall, that backslapping gladhander and his singing likeness who lives more in the florid future than in a past of bloody altars with her whose mind's a jilldaw's nest since she tears up |4|abethrothal bethrottlea|4| letters she ne'er posed a pen upon when bother her goldfashioned's in such a queer of a mood that she simply can't stand it, a couple and an odd one they strive and in earnest.
As if that three could solve, singly or together, the twohornheaded dulcarnon |4handed round aurally since Euclid's patent,4| that stumped Alex among anders and drove him to pulfer turnips.
|4And But4|, my hat, |4and beadroll of saints
thereonto,4| what a worldall's woe of weariness is theirs, waiting to hear their own proper mistakes. Forº how many duitsch guilders would one post now |4the Fluminian road on shanks'
mare4| to the pillar? For one hundred? For one hundred's thousand?
Why for? And for what will all such |4a4| taradiddle serve them in anº after reeraw lifetime |4with oils and tins cheerful but |agilts guildedsa| glum4|? If a gas consumer, habituated to marble mantels, buys |4a dozen any number |aof scrupules ofa|4| of apples every other |4first frosty4| Friday during a whole lean year at the weight of too many sesterces a pound overthepoise, taking abbaco as seven point seven and letting |4born foundling4| of bulrushes stand for any woman, what a grand total of sentinels in reindeer pelts and aided by a spick span of |4oxen homeless cattle4|, fed upon Trinidad's shell cocoa and miring in sheets and sheets of showers will it take to paper a trench evenº so mucky yards longer than a cobbler's bulk is broad?
Will it make of one a good milker this having been bread and buttered up |4in Porterstown4| on superlatives |4and
under stern orders4|? |4Say,º gypsy augur or weird
wise woman?º4| Or will this alter|4, thick of his
thigh,4| go to outlands in a peajacket as a roaming catharick and just not be silly or, caring dumb all toppings for the birthrate |4or the public his health sit on
author's seat and4| lean to loungily on his lentils? Wrong! Antrist animal will live dangerously |4like Daredevil
Donnelly4| and mickleless as never a wight was, find somehow |4and evermore4| the
|4funds petty cash4| to |4smoke
crack4| diurnally a box of |4matches lucifers4|. Or if she seeks
and mates an earth of heaven|4, the sweet one,4| will she lilt |4with convulsions4| that Barney take her home again? For so long as shes in dimity underalls even if one piece ensembled |4with her lapbitch companion4| read |4sex |astorycarrier'sa| holy marrimony4| serials |4of love |athanks to upholstery & in applepie beda| |aand in applepine order & in applepie beda| such as Irish Destiny in four reels4| in a bummeltrain with a lot of uninteresting duck trousers hanging around, it is as wholly probable as a holy parable that the worst at long leash may hope to happen, such as go to meet Mary, miss Mamie and marry Meg. Why |4the devilkins4| ask any Tossy Madden or |4little Nervous4| Nelly of Holy God |4whatever be her hoydenname4| sense from |4anything any posycard4| that shred scenting as how every annual has its actual aroma. Even recollecting of a tree is far too lovely a spellbinder for her to listen.
Small blame be hers therefore that she shook her |4simply4| shoe off at geography giggle, doing provinces of Persia, when Pa let me go too's tonic sulphur was outsung, with a whispered wilfulness heard
|4fore you could whistle an Ave4| from Hazelizod round this giddying globe! |4Bewise of Fanciulla's
heart,4| Remember she speaks Cashmir and you cannot industand. Bewise of Fanciulla's heart, the heart of Fanciulla, |4fluff,4| and her hand
that's as gloveless as a peer's in the
presence, la pura e pia bella of those hazelblue eyes of woodside beauty and that linefree face. All four will be readymaid marrying |4& disengaged4| for real palship with all or any |4hellsent4| lovethieves |4or |adevilsenta| beauty burglars4| |4who have scraped her acquaintance4| when Jollycomes|4,4| out for it|4,4| mashing home. |4And if one has no abjection one may go to the length of saying: And a very good thing too.4| |4Groomsman, bridegame, spousesboy, prey.4| Though her loinstones be of jade and her moon increscent she will swoon over Percy Bysshe so as, as in the Askhimwhose |4language,,4| to get a crush on the cornerman and only learn from a Dalcroze teachment the how to drop her umbrella. |4See! See!4|
But her truest |4part foible4|, as the little grey nuns |4with feline ingenuity4| will school her without fuss or muss either, with brother Agnus in their background, since today is well thine but whose will tomorrow's be, is to beg two makes in change for one wing. But when there's no more tay for sugar the cosey arrives that divinity showshapes their ends backview them how we will. For singleness on purposeº is all their gender's bugbear especiallyº when old which they all too soonº get to look.
Pendent thisº time there he who |4for his pravity4| will be either crowned orº hanged scans
the errors of historyº from the parrotbook of Datas |4traduced into jinglish janglage for the usages of dolphins bornº4|. If the santimeter of Hairyoddities|4, that dull emitter,4| or Noah's misbelieving missus was toº velivole back all the waysº from Wallhollow and through their |4macroscopic4| telluspeep of whatswhatness, just boyjones upon those pages she would laugh that flat that after that she had sanked down on her fat arks they would shake all to sheeks. |4And Hot work does no harm and4| pending this time too he, who |4(bless his cowly head!)4|, suckled at the breast of a peasant fosteress, because he nought would wet his weapon, will be a coward's castle pulpiticianer and apostle walker from the ball of his footup when he is not shuttling the sacred rattle, oriented actually though he be, sees not her signings nor the multiplyings of her shadow but is ating, as he thinks at present, for his private salivation of the |4petrified4| knuts of knowledge |4and reckoning runes off a blackthorn messagestick4| so as to befit him for the massacre, by pitchcap and triangle, of the blissbrigade of the ignorants |4and the holy murder of the hydrodux4|, while still preserving that stained glass face effect (you would surely swear butter would not melt in his breeches) and piling up sapience|4, an omnitude of jadg and daktar,4| as sagely as Anisocrates.