Jaunty Jaun, as I was shortly before that made aware, next halted to fetch a breath, the first leg of his nightstride being pulled through, and to loosen (let God's son now be looking down on to the poor preambler!) both of his bruised brogues that were plainly made a good bit before his hosen were at the weir by Lazar's Walk (for far and wide, as
|s12broad larges12| as he was |s12long
livelys12|, was he noted for his humane treatment of any kind of abused footgear), a matter of maybe nine score or so barrelhours' distance off, as truly he merited to do. He was there, I could planimetrically see, when I took a closer look at him, that was to say, greatly altered for the brighter though still the
graven image of his squarer self as he was used to be, perspiring but happy notwithstanding his foot was still asleep on him, the way he thought by the holy januarious he had a bullock's hoof in his buskin, with his halluxes so splendid, through Ireland untranscended, bigmouthed poesther, propped up, restant, against a butterblond warden of the peace, one comestabulish Sigurdsen, who, buried
upright like the Osbornes, had tumbled slumbersomely on sleep at night duty behind the curing station, equilebriated amid the embracings of a monopolised bottle.
Now, there were as many as twentynine hedgedaughters out of Saint Brigid's national nightschool (for I seemed to remember how it was still a look before you leap year) learning their antemeridian lesson of life, beseated as they were upon the brinkspondy, attracted to the rare sight of the first human yellowstone landmark while they paddled away keeping time magnetically with their eight
and fifty pedalettes, playing foolyfool jouay allo misto posto,
all barely in their typtap teens, describing a charming dactylogram of nocturnes though repelled by the snores of the log who looked stuck to the sod as ever and oft, when liquefied, he murmoaned abasourdly in his Dutchener's native, visibly unmoved, over his treasure trove for the crown: Dotter dead bedstead mean diggy smuggy flasky!
Jaun (after he had in the first place doffed a hat with a reinforced crown and bowed to all the others in that chorus of praise of goodwill girls on their best beehiviour who all they were girls all rushing sowarmly for the post as buzzy as sie could bie to read his kisshands, kittering all about, rushing and making a tremendous girlsfuss over him pellmale and his rosyposy smile, mussing his
frizzy hair and the gollywog curls of him all done in loveletters like a trayful of cloudberry tartlets and smilingly smelling, pair and pair about, broad by bread and slender to slimmer, the nice perfumios that came peeling off him (nice!) which was angelic simply, savouring of wild thyme and parsley jumbled with breadcrumbs (O nice!) asinging to his stamen and apetting of his pistil and feeling
his full fat pouch for him so tactily and jingaling his jellybags, for he was just the killingest ladykiller all by kindness now you, Jaun, asking kindlily (hillo, missies!) after their howareyous at all with those of their dollybegs, and where's Agatha's lamb? and how are the two columbillas?) next went on (finefeelingfit!) to drop a few stray remarks anent their personal appearances
and the contrary tastes displayed in their tight kittycasques and their smart frickyfrockies, asking coy one after sloy one had she read Irish legginds and gently reproving one that the ham of her hom could be seen below her hem and whispering another aside that the hook of her hum was open a bittock at her back, to have a side-eye to that, hom, and all of course just to fill up a form out of pure
human kindness and in a sprite of fun, for Jaun, by the way, was by way of becoming (I think, I hope he was) the most purely human being that ever was called man. Jaun, after those few prelimbs, made out through his horoscope the apparition of his fond sister Izzy, for he knowed his love by her waves of splabashing and she showed him proof by her way of blubushing, nor could he forget her so
tarnelly easy as all that since he was brotherbesides her benedict godfather and heaven knows he thought the world and his life of her sweet heart |s12could buy s12|, poor, good, true, Jaun.
— Sister dearest, Jaun delivered himself with express cordiality, marked by clearance of diction and general delivery, as he began to take leave of his scholastica at once so as to gain time with deep affection, we honestly believe you soeurly will miss us the moment we exit yet we feel as a martyr to the dischurch of all duty that it is about time, by Great Harry, we would
shove off to stray on our long last journey and not be the load on ye. This is the gross proceeds of your teachings in which we were raised, you, Sis, that used to write to us the exceeding nice letters for presentation and would be telling us anon (full well do we wont to recall to mind) thy oldworld tales of homespinning and derringdo and dieobscure and daddyho, those tales which reliterately
whisked oft our heart so narrated by thou, gesweest, to perfection, our pet pupil of the whole rhythmetic class and the mainsay of our erigenal house, the time we younkers twain were fairly tossing ourselves (O Phoebus! O Pollux!) in bed, having
been laid up with Castor's oil on the Parrish's syrup (the night we well remember) for to share our hard suite of affections with thee.
I rise, O fair assemblage. Andcommincio. Now then, after this introit |s12of exordiums12|, my galaxy girls, quiproquo of directions to henservants I was asking his advice on the strict T.T. from Father Mike, P.P., my orational dominican (buyd the birds, he was
saying sermon in an offrand way and confidences petween pees like ourselves in so and so many nuncupiscent words about how he had just been confarreating teat-à-teat with two viragos intactas and what an awful life he led, poorish priced, and what a lawful day it was, there and then, for a consommation with an effusion and how, by all the manny larries ate pignatties, how he'd marry me
flying any old buckling time as quick as he'd look at me), and I am giving youth now in words of style, byaway of offertory, his and mikeadvice as those words he said to me. Come all ye dimsel damsels, siddle down and listle all! Follow me close! Keep me in view! Understeady me saries!
|s12which Whichs12| is to all practising massoeuses from a preaching freer and be a gentleman without a duster before a parlourmade without a spitch. Where the lisieuse are we and what's the first sing to
be sung? Several sindays after whatsintime. I'll sack that sick server the minute I bless him. Here she's is a belle, virginwhite. Doremous! During our brief apsence from this furtive feugtig season adhere to as many as probable of the ten commandments and in the long run they will prove for your better guidance along your path of right of way. The same or similar to be kindly observed
within the affianced dietcess of |s12Gays12| O'Toole and
|s12Gloamys12| Gwenn du Lake from Manducare Monday up till farrier's siesta in china dominos. Words taken in triumph from the sufferant pen of our jocosus inkerman militant of the reed behind the ear.
Never miss |12'a bride's your lostsomewhere12'| mass for the couple in Myles you
|12'chance butrose12'| to
|12'blindworship brideworship12'|. Never
|12'curse hate good mere12'| pork
|12'which is bad for your knife12'| of a |12'bad
good12'| friday. Never let a hog of the hill trample underfoot your lily of Killarney. Never play lady's game for the Lord's stake. Never lose your heart away till you win his diamond back. Make a strong point of never kicking up your rumpus over the scroll end of sofas in the Dar Bey Coll Cafeteria by tootling
risky apropos songs at commercial travellers' smokers for their columbian nights entertainments the like of White limbs they never stop teasing or Minxy was a Manxmaid when Murry wore a Man. And, by the |s12by
buns12|, is it you goes bisbuiting His Esaus and Cos and then throws them bag in the box? Why, the tin's nearly empty. First, thou shalt not smile. Twice, thou shalt not love. Lust, thou shalt not commix idolatry. Never park your brief stays in the men's convenience. Never clean your buttoncups with your dirty
pair of sassers. Never ask his first person where's your quickest cut to our last place. Never let the promising hand usemake free of your oncemaid sacral. The soft side of the axe! Never dip in the ern while you've browsers on your suite. Never slip the silver key through your gate of golden age. Ere you sail foreget my prize. Never christen medlard apples till a swithin is in sight.
Wet your thistle where a weed is and you'll rue it, despyneedies. Especially beware,
please, of being at a party to any demoralising home life. That saps a chap. Keep cool faith in the firm, have warm hoep in the house and begin frem athome to be chary of charity. Recollect the yella perals that beset green gerils, Rhidarhoda and Daradora, once they get hobbyhorsical, playing breeches parts for Bessy Sudlow in fleshcoloured pantos instead of earthing down in the coalhole trying to boil the big Gunne's dinner. Leg-before-Wicked lags-behind-Wall where here Mr Whicker whacked a great fall. Femorafamilla feeled it a candleliked but Hayes, Conyngham and Robinson sware it's an egg. Forglim mick aye! Stay, forestand and tillgive it! Remember the biter's bitters I shed the hour I buried our Harlotte Quai from poor Mrs Mangain's of Britain court on the feast of Marie Maudlin. Sold in her heyday, laid in the straw, bought for one puny petunia. Moral: if you can't point a lily get to henna out of here! Put your swell foot |s12downmost foremosts12| on foulardy pneumonia |s12shortwaists shertwaists,s12| irriconcilible with true fiminin risirvition, and ribbons of lace, limenick's disgrace. Sure what is it on the whole only holes tied together and the merest transparent washingtones to make Languid Lola's lingery longer? Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you but never lay bare your breast secret to joy Jonas in the Dolphin's Barncar. There you'll fix your eyes darkled on the autocart of the bringfast cable but here till you're martimorphysed |s12just pleases12| sit still face to face. For if the shorth of your skorth falls down to his knees pray how wrong will he look till he rises? Not before Gravesend is commuted. |s12And Buts12| now reappears Autist Algy, the pulcherman, stated to be well
known in and near the ciudad of Buellas Arias, taking you to the playguehouse to see the Smirchings of Venus, introducing you to |s12Hogarth hogarthss12| and asking in a very low bearded voice, with a nice little manner and in a very nice little way, won't you be an artist's moral and pose in your nudies as a local esthetic before voluble old masters Bottisilly and Titteretto and Vergognese and Coraggio! And the volses of lewd Buylan, for innocence! |s12and Ands12| the phyllisophies of Bussup Bulkeley. All blah! Put off the old man at the very font and get right on with the |12young nuttyº12| sparker round the back. Stick wicks in your earshells when you hear the prompter's voice. Look on a boa in his beauty and you'll nevermore wear your strawberry leaves. Rely on the relic. What bondman ever you bind on earth I'll be bound 'twas combined in hemel. Keep airly hores and the worm is yores. Go to doss with the poulterer and shake up with the milchmand. The Sully van vultures are on the prowl. And the hailies fingring maries. Tobacco's tabu and toboggan's a backseat. Secret satieties and onanymous letters make the great unwatched as bad as their betters. Don't on any account acquire a paunchon for that alltoocommon fagend habit of frequenting and chumming together with the pairs of couples in Mr Tunnelly's halldoorways, wriggling with lowcusses and cockchafers and vamps and rodants, in the end to commit acts of
interstipital indecency as between twineties and tapegarters under the coverfew act. Three minutes, I'm counting you! Woooooon! No |s12blank trichings12| now! Give me that when I tell you! And is that any place to be smuggling his madam's apples up? Gee wedge! Begor, I like the way they're half cooked. Hold, flay, grill, fire that laney feeling for kosenkissing dysgenically within the proscribed limits like Population Peg |12on a hinter too12| does be doing to Temptation Tom. Atkings questions in barely and snakking smuth like a |s12nursemaid nursemagds12|. While there's men-o'-war on the say there'll |s12bes12| loves-o'-women on the do. Love, cisternbrothelly, when properly disinfected and taken neat in the generable way upon retiring to roost in the company of a husband-in-law or other respectable relative of an apposite sex, does a felon good, suspiciously if he has a slugger's liver. But I cannot belabour the point too ardently (and after the lessions of experience I speak from inspiration) that fetid spirits is the thief of prurities so none of your twenty rod cherrywhisks, me daughter, at the Cat and Rabbit. When the night's in May and the moon shines might. And at 2 bis Lot's Road. When parties get tight for each other they lose all respect together. By the stench of her fizzle and the |s12glibth glibs12| of her gab know the drunken draggletail Dublin drab. You'll pay for each bally sorraday
night every billing sumday morning. We won't meeth in Navan till you try to give the Kellsfireclub the goby. Hill or hollow, Hull or Hague! And beware how you dare of wet cocktails in Kildare or the same may see your wedding driving home from your wake. Nor must you omit to screw the lid firmly on that jazz jiggery, kick starts, bumping races on the flat and point to coint over obstacles. Ridewheeling that acclivisciously up windy Rutland Rise and insighting rebellious northers in the saunter of the city of Dunlop. Then breretonbiking on the free with your airs of go-be-dee and your heels upon the handlebars. Should you feel as though you needed healthy physicking exercise to flush your kidneys, you understand, and move the bowel, lassy, and perspire freely, why, out you go on the dirt track and skip. Deal with Nature, the great greengrocer, and pay regular by the monthlies. Your Punt's Perfume's only in the hatpinny shop beside the reek of the rawney. It's more important than air — I mean than food — air and promotes that natural emotion. Likewise if I were in your unvelope shirt I'd keep my weathereye well cocked open for your furnished lodgers paying for their feed on tally with company and piano tunes. The too friendly friend sort who he's kommen from |12old olt12| Pannonia on this purpose and |s12whos12| mix himself so at home mid the musik and spanks the ivory so lovely, Mistro Melosiosus MacShine MacShane, may soon prove your undoing and bane through the succeeding years of rain should you, whilst Jaun is from home, get used to basking in his loverslowlap
when |12'closeted closeheadedº12'| together behind locked doors, kissing steadily (it's not the thing, you know) with the calfloving selfseeker
under the influence of woman, inching up to |s12you and you,s12| disarranging your modesties and fumbling with his forte paws in your bodice after your billydoos twy as a first go-off (take care, would you stray and split on me!) and going on doing his idiot every time you gave him his chance to get thick and play pigglywiggly, making much of you, bilgetalking like a ditherer about your glad neck and the round globe and the white milk and the red raspberries (O horrifier!) and prying down furthermore to chance his lucky arm with his pregnant questions up to our past lives. It would be a whorable state of affairs altogether for the red columnists, Peter Paragraph and Paulus Puff, to get ahold of for their balloons and shoot you |12private12| by surprise, considering the marriage slump that's on this oil age and pulexes three shillings a pint and wives at six and seven |12when domestic calamities belame par and newlaid bellow mar12| in the slack march of civilisation, were you, becoming guilty of intoxication, to have and to hold, to pig and to pay, direct connection qua intervener with a prominent married member of the vicereeking squad and in consequence of the hereinunder subpenas be flummoxed to the second degree by becoming a detestificated companykeeper on the dammymonde of Lucalamplight. Anything but that, for the fear and love of gold! Once and for all I'll have no college swankies (you see I am well voiced in love's arsenal so I have every reason to know that rogues' gallery of nightbirds and bitchfanciers, lucky duffs and light lindsays, haughty hamiltons and gay gordons, dosed, doctored
and otherwise, messing around skirts and what their fickling intentions look like, you make up your mind to that) trespassing on your danger zone in the dancer years. If ever I catch you at it, mind, it's you that will cocottch it! I'll give it to you, hot, high and heavy, before you can say sedro! Or may the maledictions of Lousyfear fall like nettlerash on the white friar's father that converted from moonshine the fostermother of the first nancyfree that ran off after the trumpadour that mangled Moore's melodies and so upturned the tubshead of the stardaft journalwriter to inspire the prime finisher to fellhim the firtree out of which Cooper Funnymore planed the flat of the beerbarrel on which my grandydad's lustiest sat his
seat of unwisdom with my tante's petted sister for the cause of his joy! |12Amineº.12|
Poof! There's puff for ye, begorra, all abound me breadth! As broad as its lung and as long as a line! Whoo? Now something nice. Dear sister in perfect |12law leave12| again I say take a brokerly advice
that we, Jaun, first of our name, here now make all receptacles of, free of price. Easy, my dear, if they tingle you either say nothing or nod. Be vacillant over those vigilant who would leave you to belave black on white. Perousse instate your Weakly Standerd, our verile organ that is red allover. Apply your five wits to the four verilatest. Swear aloud by pious fiction the like of
Lentil Lore by Carnival Cullen or Pease in Plenty by the Curer of Wars, the |s12twos12| best sells on the market, set up by Gill the father, put out by Gill the son and circulating disimally at Gillydehooly's cost, licensed and censered by Their Graces
of Linzen and Petitbois, licet ut lebanus, for expansion on the promises. Strike up a nodding acquaintance with the works of old Mrs Trot, senior, and Manoel Canter, junior, and Loper de |s12Fegas
Figass12|, nates maximum. Sifted science will do your arts good. Egg Laid by Former Cock and With Flageolettes in Send Fanciesland. Trip over sacramental tea into the long lives of our saints and saucerdotes, with vignettes, cut short
into instructual primers by those in authority for the bittermint of your soughts. |12Forgetº not the palsied. Light a match for poor old Contrabally and send some balmoil for the schizmatics.12| Remember, maid, thou must art powder but Cinderella thou dust return. (What are you rubbing her sleeve for, Ruby? And pull in your tongue, Polly!) Cog that out of your teen times, everyone! How dare ye be laughing out of your mouthshine at the lack of that? Keep cool your fresh chastity which is far, far better, far. Sooner than part with that vestalite emerald of the first importance, descended to me by far from our family, which you treasure up so closely in the sanctuary where your nether extremes meet, nay, rather let the whole ekumene universe belong to merry Hal and do whatever his Mary well
likes. You can take all the lard you care for in these lassitudes if you've parents and things to look after. There's nothing to touch it, we are taucht, unless she'd care for a mouthpull of white pudding, for the wish is on her rose marine and the lunchlight in her eye. Guard that gem, Sissy, rich and rare, ses he. In this cold old worold who'll feel it? Hum! The jewel you're all so cracked about there's flitty few of them gets it, for there's nothing now but the sable stoles and a runabout to match it. Sing him a ring. Touch me low. And I'll lech ye so, my soandso. Show and show. Show on show. She. Shoe. Shone.
Divulge, sjuddenly jouted out hardworking Jaun, clenching his manlies, so highly strong was he, man, and gradually quite warming to her, (+12divulge divorce+)12| unto me and say the curname in undress of any
lapwhelp or sleevemongrel who talks to you upon the road where he tuck you to be a roller, O, and volunteers to trifle with your roundlings for |s12proffered profferreds12| glass and dough without taking out his
from the eligible ministriss for affairs with the black fremdling, that enemay of our country, in a cleanlooking light and (I don't care a gothamm tongser's tammany hang who the mucky is nor |s12two twoos12| hoots in the corner nor three shouts on a hill, were he even a constantineapolitan namesuch of my very own and like enoch to my townmajor ancestors, Rere Uncle Remus, the Baas of Eboracum, and Old Father Ulissabon Knickerbocker, the lanky Sire of Wolverhampton, about their |s12bristolings bristelingss12|) as true as there's a soke for sakes in Twoways Petersborough and sure as home we come to newsky prospeckt from west the wave on schedule time from the land of breach of promise, with March's pebbles spinning from beneath our footslips, rest insured that as we value the very name Insister that as soon as we do possibly it will be a poor lookout for that insister. He's a |s12market markts12| man from that hour. And why do we say that, you may query me? |12(+Quary?+)12| Guess! Wrong! Because then probably we'll dumb well soon show him what the Shaun way is like how we'll go a long way towards breaking his outsider's face for him for making up to you and getting my ward's head under his chancery before feeling with his two dimensions for your nuptial dito. Ohibow, if I was Blonderboss I'd gooandfrighthisdualman! Now, we'll tell you what we'll do to be sicker instead of compensation. We'll burst his mouth like Leary to the Leinsterface and reduce his liniments to a poolp. You'll hear him calling you, bump, like a blizz, in the muezzin of the turkest night. That'll be it, even should I have to coomb the brash of the libs round Close Saint Patrice to lay my louseboob on his
behaitch like Toss. I have his quoram of images all on my retinue, Mohomadhawn Mike. Brass up! Moreover, after that bad manners to me if I don't think strongly about giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first |s12policewoman police bubbyºs12| cunstable in the field I might chance to follopon. Or for that matter if I get the wind up what do you bet I mightn't even take it into my head to swing for your perfect stranger in the meadow of heppiness and then wipe the street up with the clonmellian, pending my bringing proceedings before a bunch of magistrafes and twelve good and gleeful men? Take warning! It should prove more or less of an event. He'll have pansements then for his pensamientos. Dumnlimn wimn humn. In which case I'll not be complete in fighting lust until I contrive to half kill your Charley you're my darling for you and send him to Home Surgeon Hume, the algebrist, before his appointed time particularly should he turn out to be a man in brown about town of about fiftysix or so, pithecoid proportions, with |s12perhaps perhopss12| five |s12feet foots12| eight, the usual X Y Z type, R.C., Toc H, nothing but claret, not in the studbook by a long stretch, with a toothbrush moustache and jaw crockeries, alias grinner through collar, and of course no beard, meat and |s12mustard colmanss12| suit, washing tie, sipping some Wheatley's on a barstool, always trying to buy movables by |s12monthlies hebomedariess12| for to |s12put putts12| in a new house to loot, cigarette in his holder, with a good job and pension in Buinness's, blueygreen eyes a bit scummy, developing a series of
angry boils with certain references to the Deity, seeking relief in alcohol and so on, general omnibus character with a dash of railway brain, stale cough and an occasional twinge of claudication, having his favourite fecundclass family of upwards of a decade to boot and care for|s12, Imeanºs12|.
So let it be a knuckle or an elbow, I hereby admonish you. And lest there be no misconception, Miss Forstowelsy, over who to fasten the plightforlifer on when the nice little smellar squalls in his crydle what the dirty old bigger'll be squealing through his coughin, you better keep in the gunbarrel straight as I recommence you to (you
|12'gy gypsyeyed gypseyeyed12'| baggage, do you hear what I'm praying?) or, Gosh, I'll be all over you myselx
horizontally for knocking me with my name and yourself and your babybag down |12at such a greatº sacrifice12| with a rap of the |12gabble gavel12| to a third price cowhandler as cheap as the niggerd's dirt (for sale!) or I'll smack your jujube lips well for you so I will well for you if you don't keep a civil tongue in your pigeonhouse. I'll teach you bed |s12manners minnerss12| tip for tap not to be playing your oddaugghter tangotricks with micky dazzlers if I find corsehairs on your riverfrock and the squirmside of your burberry lupitally covered with |s12chaff chiffchaffs12| and shavings. You'll ging nae maer wi' Wolf the Ganger! Lonely went to play your mother, isod? You was wiffriends? Hay, dot's a doll yarn! Mark mean then! I'll homeseek you, Luperca, as sure as there's a palatine in Limerick, and, in
|12'stript stripet stript striped stript stripedº12'| conference, here's how, if you're my rodeo gell. Nerbu de Bios! If yous twos goes to walk upon the railway, God and I'll goad to beat behind the bush. Snip! I'll tear up your limpshades and lock all your tailors in |12'the aº12'| closet, I will, and cut your silkskin into garters. I'll have plenary sadisfaction, plays the bishop, for your partial's indulgences. Fair man and foul suggestion. There's a lot of |s12lecits12| pleasure coming bangslanging your way. You'll rebmemer your mottob|12', |aAveha| Tiger Roma,º12'| |s12mikelys12| smarter the nickst time. For I'll just draw my prancer and give |s12up yous12| one splitpuck in the crupper, you understand, that will bring the |12'warm poppy12'| blush of shame to your peony hindmost till you yelp papapardon and radden your rhodatantarums to the beat of calorrubordolor, I am, I do and I suffer (do you hear me now, lickspoon, and stop looking at your bussycat bow in the slate!), that you won't obliterate for the bulkier part of a running year, failing to give a good account of yourself, if you think I'm so tan cupid as all that. Lights out now (bouf!), tight and sleep on it! And that's how I'll bottle your greedypuss beautibus for ye, me bullin heifer, for 'tis I that have the peer of arrams that carry a |12wallop between wallop. Between12| them.
How (from the sublime to the ridiculous) times out of oft, my future, shall we think with deepest of love and recollection by introspection of thee
but me far away on the pillow breathing fondly o'er my names all through the empties whilst moidhered by the rattle of the doppeldoorknockers. Our |12'homerole12'| poet |12'to Ostelinda(+, Fred Wetherly,+)12'| puts it |12'somewhere somewhys12'| better. You're sitting on me style, maybe, whereoft I helped yous ore. Littlegame |12'girl rumilie12'| from |12'Liffaslidebank Liffaslidebankumº you fill a big roomy corner Teble, (Toobliqueme!)º but roomy a big corner fill you do12'| in this unadulterated seat of our affections. Sevenheavens O heaven! Iy waount yiou! Yore ways to melittleme were wonderful so Ick am purseproud in sending yum loveliest pansiful thoughts touching me dash in-you through wee dots Hyphen, the so pretty arched godkin of beddingnights. How I shall should I survive as, please the uniter of U.M.I. hearts, I am living in hopes to do, replacing mig wandering handsup in yawers, so yeager for |s12mich mitchs12|, positively cover the two pure |s12cheeks chickss12| of your comely |s12plumpcake plumpchakes12| with |s12sugary kissings zuccherikissingss12| hong, kong, and so gong that I'd scare the bats out of the ivfry one of those muggy mornings, honestly, by my rantandog and daddyoak, I will, become come coming when, upon the mingling of our meeting waters, wish to wisher, like massive mountains to part no more, you will there and then in those happy moments of |s12our your ouryourºs12| soft accord rainkiss on me back for full marks with shouldered arms and in that united I.R.U. state when I come (|12'teuf! teuf! touf! touf!º12'|) wildflier's fox into my own green geese again swap sweetened smugs six of one for half a dozen of the other when cherries next come back to Ealing as come they must as they musted in their past as they must for my pressing season as hereinafter must they chirrywill immediately |s12pending suants12| on my safe return to ignorance and bliss in my horseless |s1299 coppallpoor of ninetynine coppalpoor Coppal Poors12| through suirland and noreland, kings country and queens, with my ropes of pearls for gamey girls the way ye'll hardly. Knowme.
'Tis post purification we will and render social service, missus. Let us all ignite in our prepurgatory grade as aposcals
and help our Jakeline sisters clean up the hogshole. Burn only what's Irish, accepting their coals. Write me your essayest but cursorily for Henrietta' sake on mortinatality or the life of jewries and the sludge of King's at its height running boulewards over the whole of it. I'd write it all by mownself if I only had here of my jolly young watermen. Bear in mind, by Michael, all the provincials' bananas and elacock eggs making drawadust jubilee along Henry, Moore, Earl and Talbot streets. Luke at all the memmer manning he's dung for the prey of birds, our priest-mayor-king-merchant, strewing the Castleknock road till the first glimpse of Wales and from Ballses Breach Harshoe up to Dumping's Corner with the Marist Fathers versus White Friars elevens out on a rogation stag party. Compare them caponchin trowlers otiosely with the Bridges of Belches in Fairview, noreast Dublin's favourite souwest wateringplatz, and ump as you lump it. What do you mean by Jno Citizen and how do you think of Jas Pagan? Explain why there is such a number of orders of religion in Asa! Why such an order number in preference to any other number? Why any number in any order at all? Where is the greenest island |s12of offs12| the black coats of Spaign? Overset into universal: I am perdrix and upon my pet ridge. |s12Orelmus! Oralmus!ºs12| Hailfellow some wellmet boneshaker or trust and take the Drumgondola tram and, wearing the trotteur and vestee endorsed by the hierarchy fitted with ecclastics, stand on, say, Aston's, at, suppose, the hoyth of number eleven, let us say, Kane or Keogh's, along quayth a copy of the Seeds and Weeds Act, when you have procured one for yourself,
and I advise you strongly to take a good longing gaze into any nearby shopswindow you may select and in the course of about thirtytwo minutes' time proceed to turn aroundabout on your heehills towards the previous causeway and I shall be very cruelly mistaken indeed if you will not be jushed astonushed to see how you will be meanwhile durn well topcoated with |s12cakes kakess12| of slush occasioned by the mush jam of the |s12crosse crosss12| and blockwalls traffic in transit. Where's Cowtends Kateclean, the woman with the muckrake? When will the W.D. face of our sow muckloved D'lin, the Troia of towns and Carmen of cities, crawling with mendiants, get its wellbelavered |s12whitevache whitewishºs12| like L'pool and M'chester? Who'll disasperaguss Pape's Avignue or who'll uproose the Opian Way? Who'll brighton |12'''Bray Brayhowth12'''| and bait the Bull |12'''Bailey12'''| and never despair of |s12Dublin Lorcansbys12|? |12'''The rampant royal commissioner!12'''| 'Tis an ill weed blows no poppy good. And this labour's worthy of my higher. If I hope not charity what profiteers me? Nothing! Do you know what, liddle giddles? One of those days I am advised by the smiling voteseeker who is now snoring elected to positively strike off hiking for good and all until such |s12time temses12| loiter on as some mood is made |12'''under privy-sealed orders12'''| to get me an increase of automoboil and footwear and a bourse from Bon Somewind for a cure at Bad Anyweir (though where it's going to come from this time …) as I sartunly think now, honest to John, for an income plexus that that's about the sanguine boundary limit. Amean.
Sis dearest, Jaun added, with voise somewhit murky, as he turned his dorse to her to pay court to it, melancholic this time, whiles his onsaturncast eyes in stellar attraction followed swift to an imaginary swellaw, O, the vanity of Vanissy! All ends vanishing! |s12Personally
Pursonallys12|, Grog help me, I am in no violent hurry. If time enough lost the ducks walking easy found them. I'll nose a blue fonx with any tristys blinking upon this earthlight of all them that pass by the way of the deerdrive
|s12by Wilfred's Walk or wilfrid's walks12| but I'd turn back as lief as not if I could only spoonfind the nippy girl of my heart's appointment, Mona Vera Toutou Ipostila, my lady of Lyons,
to guide me by gastronomy under her safe conduct. That's more in my line. I'd ask no kinder of fates than to stay where I am, under the invocation of Saint |s12James Jamass12| Hanway, servant of Gamp,
lapidated, and Jacobus A'Pershawm, intercissous, for my thurifex, with Peter Roche, that frind of my |s12bosom boozums12|, leaning on my cubits, at this passing moment by localoption in the birds'
lodging me pheasants among, with me hares standing up well and me longears dittoes till well on into the |s12bosom beausomes12| of the exhaling night, picking stopandgo jewels out of the hedges and catching
dimtop brilliants on the tip of my wagger for them breezes zipping
round by Drumsally do be devils to |s12flirt play fleurts12|. I could sit on |s12one safes12| side till the bark of Saint Grouse's for hoopoe's hours, laughing lazy at the sheep's lightning, hearing the mails across the nightriver (peepet! peepet!) and whippoorwilly in the woody (moor park! moor park!), as peacefed as a philopotamus, and crekking jugs at the grenoulls, leaving tea for the trout and belleeks for the wary, till I'd followed through my upfielded |s12nephewscope neviewscopes12| the rugaby moon cumuliously goarolling himself westasleep amuckst the cloudscrums for to watch how carefully my nocturnal goosemother
would lay her new golden sheegg for me down under in the shy orient. What wouldn't I poach — the rent in my riverside, my otther shoes, my beavery, honest! — for a dace feast of grannom with the finny ones, flashing down the swansway, leaps ahead of the Swift MacEels and the pursewinded carpers, rearin antis rood perches astench of me, or, when I'd like own company best, with the help of a norange and bear, to be reclined on my logansome by the lasher, my g.b.d in my f.a.c.e, solfanelly in my shellyholders and lov'd Latakia, the benuvolent, for my nosethrills, with the jealosomines wilting away to their heart's deelight and the king of saptimber letting down his humely odours for my consternation, dapping my griffeen, burning water in the spearlight or catching trophies of the king's royal college of sturgeons by the armful for to bake pike and pie while, O twined me abower in L'Alouette's Tower, all Adelaide's naughtingerls juckjucking benight me, I'd tonic my |s12twentyfour twittyfours12| Dorian |s12blackbirds blackbuddss12| off my singasongapiccolo to pipe musicall airs on numberous fairyaciodes. I give, a king, to me, she does, alone, up there, yes see, I double give till the spinney |s12was all all ecloseds12| asong with them. Isn't that lovely though? I give to me alone I |s12double troubles12| give! And what sensitive coin I'd be possessed
of at Latouche's, begor, I'd sink it sumtotal, every
dolly farting, in vestments of subdominal poteen at prime cost and I bait you the whole ounce you half on your backboard that I'm the gogetter that'd make it pay like cash registers. And, what with one man's fisch and a dozen men's poissons, I'd come out with my magic fluke in close time, fair, free and |s12frisking frolickys12|, zooming tophole on the mart as a factor. And I tell you the Bectives wouldn't hold me. By the unsleeping Solman Annadromous, ye god of little pescies, nothing would stop me. Not the Ulster Rifles and the Cork Milice and the Dublin fusees and Connacht Rangers ensembled! For money makes multimony like the brogues and the kishes. I'd axe the channon and leip a liffey and drink annyblack water that rann on me way. Yip! How's that for scats, mine shatz, for a lovebird? To funk is only peternatural, it's daring feers divine. Bebold! Like Varian's, sweeping all behind me. And, zoom, before you knew where you weren't I stake my ignitial's davy, cash-and-cash-can-again, I'd be staggering humanity and loyally rolling you over, my spouse, in tons of red clover, fiehigh and fiehigher and fiehighest of all. I'd spoil you altogether. Not a spot of my hide but you'd love to seek and scan again! There'd be no standing me, I tell you. And as gameboy as my pagan name |12'K.C.12'| is what it is I'd never say let fly till I'd plant you, my Gizzygay, on the electric ottoman in the lap of lechery|12'', simpringly stitchless with admiracion 12''| among the most uxuriously furnished compartments with sybarate chambers just as I'd run my shoestring into near a million of them as a firstclass dealer and everything. Only for one thing, that I'd be awful anxious, you understand, about Shoepisser Pluvius and in assideration of the terrible
luftsucks playing around in the coold amstophere till the bording that would perish the Dane and his chapter of accidents to be atramental to the better half of my alltoolyrical health, not considering my capsflap, and that's the truth now out of the cackling bag, for truly sure for another thing I never could tell the |s12least leests12| falsehood that would truthfully give sotisfiction. I'm not talking apple sauce eithou. Or up in my hat. I earnst. Fschue!
Sissibis dearest, as I was reading to myself not very long ago in Tennis Flonnels MacCourther, his correspondence, besated upon my tripos, and
just thinking like thauthor how long I'd like myself to be continued at Hothelizod peeking into the fuocus and pecking at thumbnail reveries, 'tis tramsported with grief I am by this night sublime as you may see by my size and my brow that's all forehead to go forth, |s12free franks12| and |s12happy hoppy s12| from our nostorey house upon this benedictine errand, but it is historically the most glorious mission, secret or profund, through all the annals of our — as you so often term her — efferfreshpainted livy, in beautific repose, upon the silence of the dead, from Pharoph the nextfirst down to Ramescheckles the lastbust thing. The Vico road goes round and round to meet where terms begin. Still, onappealed to by the cycles and unappalled from by the recoursers, we feel all serene, never you fret, as regards our dutyful cask. Full of my breadth from pride I am for 'tis a grand thing (superb!) to be going to meet a king, not an everynight king, nenni, by gannies, but the overking of Hither on Thither Erin himself, pardee, I'm saying. Before there was a man at all on Ireland there was a lord at Lucan. We only wish everyone was as sure of anything in this watery world as we are of everything in the newlywet fellow that's bound to follow. I'll lay you a guinea for a hayseed now. Tell mother that. 'Twill amuse her.
Well, to the figends of Annamneses with the wholeabolish business! The fine ice so temperate
of our, alas, these times are not so far off as you might wish to be congealed. So now, I'll ask of |s12you you,s12| let ye create no scenes in my poor primmafore's wake. I don't want yous to be billowfighting your biddy moriarty duels over me till you spit stout, you understand, after soused mackerel nor your ugly lemoncholic gobs round the hobs in a sewing circle, with the painters in too, curse me luck, with your rags up turning breakfarts into lost soupirs, nor your flabbies on your groaning chairs for flapjack and salonthay of a bluemoondag, steaming your |s12old bones damp ossicles,s12| praying Jaun Dyspeptist while Ole Clo goes through the wood with Shep togather touting for Goodboy Sommers and Mistral Blownowse hugs his kindlings, when voiceyversey it's my |s12wildmoney'ss12| gala benefit, robbing leaves out of my taletold book. Once upon
a drunk and a fairly good drunk it was and the rest of your blatherumskite. Just a plain shays by the fire for absenter Sh the Po and I'll make ye all an eastern beauty of myself the moment that you name the way. Sussumcordials all round, let ye alloyiss and ominies, while I stray and let ye not be getting grief out of it on my poor headsake even should we forfeit our life. Lo, improving ages wait ye. In the orchard of the bones. Some time very presently now when yon clouds are dissipated after their forty years' shower the odds are we shall all be hooked and happy communionistically among the fieldnights elycean, élite of the elect, in the land of lost of time. Johannisburg's a revelation! Deck the diamants that never die! So cut out the lonesome stuff! Drink it up, ladies, please, as smart as you can lower it. Your
sole and myopper must hereupon part company. Parting's fun. Laugh! Sure, treasures, a letterman does be often thought reading ye between lines that do have no sense at all. I sign myself. With much leg. Inflexibly yours. Ann Posht the Shorn. To be continued. Huck!
Something of a sidesplitting nature must have occurred to westminstrel Jaunathaun for a grand big blossy hearty stenorious laugh hopped out of him at the bare thought of how jolly they'd like to be rolling his hoop and all of them truetotypes |12''in missammen massness12''| were just starting to spladher splodher with the jolly magorios, hicky hecky hock, huges huges huges, hughy hughy hughy, O'Jaun, so jokable and so geepy, O, when suddenly (how like a woman!), swifter as mercury, he wheels right round starnly on the Rizzies suddenly, with his gimlets blazing rather sternish (how black like thunder!), to see what's loose. So they stood still and wondered. Till first he sighed (and how ill soufered!) and they nearly cried (the salt of the earth!) and finally he replied:
— There is something more. All I can tell you is this, my sorellies. It's prayers in layers all the thumping time, begor, in the suburrs of the heavenly |s12gardens gardens,s12| once we
shall have passed
|s12snug s12| through to |s12ourºs12| eternal reward (the scorchhouse). Shunt us! Shunt us! Shunt us! If you want to be felixed come and be parked. Sacred ease there! The Seanad and pobbelqueue's remainder. No petty family squabbles Up There nor homemade
hurricanes in our Cohortyard, no cupahurling nor apuckalips nor no nothing. With the Byrns which is far better and eve for ever your idle be. Eireny allover Irelands. Hogmanny |12'd'ye di'ye12'| gut? Hogmanny |12'd'ye di'ye12'| smellygut? And hogmanny |12'd'ye di'ye12'| smellyspatterygut? You take Joe Hanny's tip for it. Post Mortem is the goods. With Jollification a good second. Toborrow and toburrow and tobarrow! That's our crass, hairy and evergrim life! We may come, touch and go, from atoms and ifs, but we're presurely destined to be odd's without ends. Here we moult in Moy Kain and flop on the seemy side, living sure of hardly a doorstep for a stopgap, with Whogoesthere and a live sandbag round the corner. But upmeyant you sprout all your abel and woof your wings, dead certain however of neuthing whatever to aye forever, while Hyam Huam's in the chair. Ah, sure, pleasantries aside, in the tail of the cow what a humptydaum earth looks our miseryme heretoday as compared beside the Hereweareagain Gaieties of the Afterpiece when the Royal Revolver of the real globoes lets regally fire of his mio colpo for the chrisman's pandemom to give over and the Harlequinade to begin properly SPQueaRking. Mark Time's |s12finist joke Finist Jokes12|. Putting Allspace in a Notshall.
Well, home cooking everytime. Mountain's good mustard and I've eaten a griddle. But I |12feel fill12| twice as stewhard what I felt before when I'm after eating a few natives. I ingoyed your
pick of hissing hot luncheon fine, I did, thanks awfully (sublime!). Tenderest bully ever I ate with the boiled protestants (allinoilia, allinoilia!) only for your peas again was a taste tooth psalty and return
with my best savioury condiments and a penny in the plate for the james. For quid we have recipimus, recipe, O lout! And save that, Oliviero, for thy sunny day! Soupmeagre! Couldn't look at it! But if you'll buy me yon coat of the vairy furry best I'll try and pullll it awn mee. It's in fairly good order and no doubt 'twill sarve to turn. Remove this boardcloth! Next stage, tell the tabler, for a variety I'll try crackling a potroast, grilled over |s12birchenboughs birchenrodss12|, with a few bloomancowls in albies. I want to get outside monasticism. Mass and meat mar no man's journey. Eat a missal lest. All the vitalmines is beginning to sozzle in chewn, fudgem, kates and epas and naboc and erics and oinnos on kingclud and xoxxoxo and xooxox xxoxoxxoxxx till I'm fustfed like fungstif and very presently from now posthaste it's off yourll see me ryuoll on my usual rounds again to draw Terminus Lower and Killadown |s12and Letternoosh, let Letterspeak, Lettermuck to Litterananiam Littorananimas12| and the roomiest house even in Ireland, if you can understamp that, and my next item's platform it's how I'll try and collect my extraprofessional postages owing to me by Thaddeus Kellyesque Squire, dr, for nondesirable printed matter. But I know what I'll do. Great pains off him I'll take and that'll be your redletterday calendar, window machree. I'll knock it out of him! I'll stump it out of him! I'll rattattatter it out of him before I'll quit the doorstep of
old Con Connolly's residence! By the horn of twenty of both of the two Saint Collopys blackmail him I will in arrears or my name's not penitent Ferdinand! And it's daily and hourly I'll nurse him till he pays my fine fee. Ameal.
Well, Here's looking at ye! If I never leave you biddies till my stave is a bar I'd be tempted rigidly to become a passionate father. Me hunger's weighed. |s12Hungkung!s12| Me anger's suaged!
|s12Hangkang!s12| Ye can stop as ye are, little lay mothers, and wait in wish and wish in vain till the |s12grim
grames12| reaper draws nigh|12', with the sickle of the sickles,12'| as a blessing in disguise. Devil a curly hair I care. If any
marauding Clod Dewvale was to try to hold me up, dicksturping me and relieving me of my rights to my onus, yan, tyan, tethera, methera, pimp, I'd let him have my best pair of galloper's heels in his creamsourer. He will have better manners. I'm dished if he won't. Console yourself, drawhure deelish! There's a refond of eggsized coming to
you out of me so mind you do me duty on me! And you'll miss me more as the narrowing weeks wing by. Someday duly, Oneday truly, Twosday newly, till Whensday. Look for me always at my west and I will think to |s12thine dines12|. A tear or two in time is all there's toot. And then in a click of the clock, toot toot, and doff doff we pop with sinnerettes in silkettes lining longroutes for His Diligence Majesty, our longdistance laird that likes creation. To whoosh!
— Meesh, meesh! Yes, pet. I understand, but listen, drawher nearest, Tizzy intercepted, flushing but flashing from her dove and dart eyes as she tactilifully grabbed her male corrispondee to fluster sweet nunsongs in his quickturned ear. I know, benjamin brother, but listen, I want to whisper my
(+12wish whish+)12|. Of course, engine dear, I'm ashamed for my life over this lost moment's gift of memento nosepaper which I'm sorry, my precious, is allathome I with grief can call my own but
all the same, listen, Jaunick, accept this |12widow's witwee's12| mite, though a
|12weeny witweenyº12| piece torn in one place, from my hands in second place of a linenhall valentino with my fondest and much left to tutor. X.X.X.X. It was heavily indulgenced for young Fr Ml, my pettest parriage priest, and you know who between us by your friend the pope, forty ways in forty nights, look, scene it, |s12ratty, ratty. and Ands12|, listen, now do enhance me, oblige my fiancy and bear it with you morn till life's e'en and, of course, when never you make usage of it, listen, please kindly think galways, again or again, never forget, of one absent one, not sester Maggy. And this, Joke, a sprig of blue speedwell, just a spell of floralora so you'll mind your veronique. Of course, Jer, I know you know who sends it, mercy, on the face of the waters like that film obote in the magginbottle. Awfully charming, of course, but it doesn't do her justice. Of course, please |12too12| write, won't you, and, thank you, forward it back by return pigeon's pneu in case I couldn't think who it was or any funforall happens I'll be so curiose to see in the Homesworth breakfast papers so as I'll know etherways by pity bleu what exquisite buttons|12'', gorgiose,º12''| in case I don't hope soon to hear from you as I am given now to understand it will be worth my price in money one day|12''', soº don't trouble to ans unless smthgº special as I am getting his pay and wants for nothing12'''| so I can live simply and solely for my wonderful kinkless. Flea, a girl, says it is her colour. |s12So does B and L and as for V!s12| And listen to it, Cheveluir! Bow your boche! Absolutely perfect! I will pack my comb and mirror to praxis my oval ohs and artless ahs and it will follow you pulpicly
as far as come back under all my eyes like my sapphire chaplets of ringarosary I will say for you to the Allmichael and solve quipu while the dovedoves pick my mouthbuds (msch! msch!) with nurse Madge, she's a fright, poor old dutch, in her sleeptalking |s12and buts12| you'll love her for her hessians and sickly black stockings, simply killing, I call her Sosy |12'''because she's sosiety for me12'''| but she's nice, considering she breaks in me shoes for me when I've arch trouble, |12'''and she would kiss my white arms for me so gratefully12'''| but apart from that she's terribly nice really, my sisther, round the elbow of Erne Street Lower and I'll be strictly forbidden always and true in my own way and private where I will long long to betrue you along with one who will so |s12be trueyou betrue yous12| that not once while I be |s12betrow betreus12| him not once will he be betray himself. And, of course, dear professor, you can trust me that though I change thy name though not the letter never while I become engaged with my first horsepower I will give your lovely face of mine away to my second mate with the twirlers, the Engineer with a passionflower (O, the wicked untruth! What a tell! |s12Thatº he has bought
me in his wellingtons which what you haven't got!s12|), in one of those pure
clean |12'''kisses lupstucks12'''| of yours thankfully, Arrah of the passkeys, no matter what. So don't keep me now for a good boy, you villain, peppering with fear, my goodless graceless, or I'll first murder you but, hvisker, meet me after by next appointment near you know Ships just there beside the Ship at the future poor fool's circuts of lovemountjoy square to show my disrespects |s12now now,s12| let me just your caroline for you, I must really so late. Sweetpig, he'll be furious! My prince of the courts who'll beat me to love! And I'll be there when who knows where with the objects of which I'll knowor forget. The Dargle shall run dry the sooner I you deny. And Mrs A'Mara make it up and be friends with Mrs O'Morum! Whoevery heard of such a |12''thingk thinkº12''|? Till the ulmost of all elmoes shall stele our harts asthone! Everyday, precious, while m'm'ry's leaves are falling deeply on my Jungfraud's Messongesbook, I will dream telepath posts dulcets on this isinglass stream (but don't tell him |12''or I'll be the mort of him12''|!) under the libans and the sickamours, the cyprissis and babilonias, where the frondoak rushes to the ashside and the yewleaves too kisskiss themselves, and 'twill carry on my hearz' waves my still water's reflections in words over Margrate von |s12Hungary Hungarias12|, her Quaidy ways and her Flavin hair, to thee, Jack ahoy, beyond the boysforus. And what's this I was going to say, dean? O, I understand! Listen, here I'll wait on Thee till the Thingavalla with beautiful Do Be Careful teacakes, more stuesser flavoured than vanilla and blackcurrant there's a cure in, like a born gentleman till you'll resemble me all the time you're awhile away. I swear to you, I will, by Candlemas! And, listen, joey, my old evernew, when|s12, by the
end of your chapter,ºs12| you citch water on the wagon for me being turned a star I'll dubeurry my two fesces under Pouts Vanisha Creme, their way for spilling creem, and, accent, umto extend my personnalitey to the latents, I'll boy me for myself only of expensive rainproof of pinked elephant's breath grey in the loveliest sheerest, dearest widowshood over airforce blue I am so wild for, my precious once, as the bee loves her skyhigh and listen. And never mind me laughing at what's at. Ever! Always about this hour, I'm sorry, when afterdoon my lickle pussiness I stheal heimlick in my russians from the attraction park with my terriblitall calvescatcher, Pinchapoppapoff, at my nape, drenched, love, with dripping, to affectionate slapmamma but last at night, look, after my golden Violents wetting in my upperstairs splendidly welluminated with such |s12lilac lidlylacs12| curtains wallpapered to match the cat and a fireplease, keep looking, of priceless pearlogs (I just want to see will he or are all Michaels like that) I'll strip straight after devotions before his fondstare (and I mean it too, thy gape to my gazing I'll bind and |s12I'll leash, makeleash) —ºs12| and poke stiff under my isonbound with my soiedisante chineknees cheeckchubby chambermate for the night's foreign males and your name of Shane will come forth between my shamefaced |s12when whasens12| with other lipth I nakest open my thighth when just woken by his toccatootletoo my first morning. So now, to thalk thildish, thome, theated with Mag at the oilthan we are doing to thay one little player before doing to deed. And a tiss to the tassie, for lu and for tu! Coach me how to tumble, Jaime, and, listen, Juan, |12'''in haste,12'''| warn me which to ah ah ah ah …