Typescript, December 1923-early 1927, I.3 draft level 3

MS British Library 47472 146-156 Draft details

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|3Under rather Therewith there was released3| a |3poisoning volume3| cloud indeed! Yet all they who heard or redelivered are now as much no more as were they not yet now or had they then not ever been. |3Perhaps in some future we shall presently hear the zitherer of the past and his merrymen.3| Of |3Hosty the persons in the story |a(which is |bcompletely from tub to bottomb| falsetissues and antilibellous and nonactionable |b& this applies to the whole |cof inc| the volumeb|)a| Osti3|, quite a musical genius in a small way and the owner of an exceedingly |3nice niced3| ear, no |3one3| end is known. O'Mara, |3somewhat depressed crestfallen3| by things and |3short of cash down at heels,3| at the time, |3is believed to have they squeak,3| accepted the (Saxon) |3King's ardree's3| shilling at the conclusion of the Crimean war, |3enlisting & having flown his wild geese, enlisted in Tyrone's horse, the Irish whites,3| |3soldiered a bit3| under the gunname of Blanco |3Buckley Fusilovna Bucklovitch3| after which |3he the cawer3| and |3the columbarium in3| Pump court |3saw each looked upon one another3| other no more for it seems that on the other side of the water |3it came about that on the field of Vasileff's Cornix |ainauspiciouslya|3| he perished. Paul Horan, at the suggestion |3of thrown out by3| the master in lunacy, |3became an inmate of was shoved into3| an asylum |3for inmates3| in the northern counties. Sordid Sam|3, haunted always by his ham,3| passed away painlessly one hallowe'en night |3ebbrous in3| in |3a the3| state of nature, propelled into the great beyond by footblows |3|aat upona| his atlas |aand oystera| on behangd behanged |a& behooved & behicked & behulkeda|3| of his last |3mortal fishandblood3| bedfellows, |3three Norwegians two a Northwegian & his mates3| of the |3seafaring sheafaring3| class. |3(|aAt Asa| the last straw struck he is said to have said |aas if the thought had fell intill his head like a bass dropt neck fust intill a beer cratea|: My centuple self selves, all of whose I hereby demission, blank3| |3Disliker as he was of druriodrama,3| Shorty|3, the prophet,3| disappeared from the surface of his earth so entirely spoorlessly as to tickle the speculative to all but opine that it must have come to pass that this hobo man (who possessed a large amount of the humorous) had removed his latitatº to its interior. Again, was the reverend, the sodality director, that eupeptic viceflayer to whose pulpit sinning society sirens (vide the daily picture press) fortunately became so enthusiastically attached and was an objectionable ass who very occasionally wore a raffle ticket on his hat and was semiprivately convicted of malpractices with his tableknife that same cad with a pipe|3, fully several yrs older,3| encountered by Humphrey Chimpden on that redletter morning |3in May of Mayday, was he3|?

It is|3, nebuless,3| a well vouched for fact of the commonest |3garden3| knowledge that the shape of the average human |3face cloud3| frequently alters |3its ego3| with the passing of |3years showers3|. Hence it is |3no smooth a slippery3| matter|3, given the wet & low visibility,3| to identify the individual in baggy pants |3and shufflers3| with already an inclination in the direction of baldness who was asked |3between showers3| by |3some broadfaced |athree freea|3| boardschool |3children shirkers |ain drenched coatsa|3| over |3a wall awall3| to tell them |3over agait3| that |3bedtime fishabed3| story. |3God of ghosts, but he has changed |aaloose aloka|! Drink3|. It was the
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Lord's |3own3| day |3for damp3| and the request was put to the party (a native of |3Ireland the sisterisle3| by his brogue which is said to have been average |3Dublin Clonturkish3| who had made the southeast bluffs of the |3sister isle stranger stepisle3| his headquarters) as he paused |3|asoddenlya| at evenchime3| for ten or fifteen minutes |3amid the devil's own dullness duldrum3| for a fragrant calabash during his weekend pastime of executing by cockshot with |3deadly accuracy Anny Oakley deadliness3| |3a |aseptet butcher's dozena| of3| empty bottles which had not very long before contained Reid's family stout. |3You read that before, soaky, |abut all the bottles in the |bworld historyb| will not soften your bloody thirst!a|3| |3Having reprimed his repeater,3| |3He His revenance3| rose to his feet and there|3, far from Tolkaheim,3| in a quiet English garden where the joyshots rang no more his simple intensive |3language |alanguage of kippers, curolent |bvocals vocalityb|a|3| called up before the |3group triad3| of precocious caremakers the now to us mythical habiliments |3of |aOur Fara| the arthor of our days3|, |3Our eyes demand their turn. Let them see.3| Humphrey's latitudinous hat |3with puggaree behind3|, the four-in-hand bow, |3his gruff woolseleywellesly |awith the finndrinny knopfsa|3| |3and3| the gauntlet upon the hand which in an hour not for him solely evil had struck down the mighty mighthavebeen |3Destrelle D'Esterre3| of whom his nation seemed almost ready to be about to have need. Then|3, stealing his thunder &3| in |3the3| befitting |3words legomena of the smaller country,3| a bit duskish, flavoured with a smile seeing |3that as how3| his thoughts chiefly consisted of the |3cheery cheerio3|, he aptly sketched for our soontobe fathers and mothers the |3touching3| scene |3and, It scenes like a landescape by Wildu Pictorescu or some seem om some dimb Arras, dumb as mum's mutyness, this mimage of the 77th |acousin kousina| of Kristensen, odable to |aus osa| across the wineless Ere, no odor nor |amore merea| eerie nor liss potent of suggestion than in the tales of the th tingmount.3| among lesser items of passing interest, |3the augustan peacebetothem oaks,3| the monolith rising stark from the twilit pinebarren, the angelus hour with ditchers bent upon their farm |3implements usetensiles3|, the soft bell of the fallow |3doe deers (doerehmoose genuane!)3| advertising |3her their3| milky approach as the |3hour was late midnight was striking the hour3| |3(letate!)3| |3How |ahe met his honour on Lorenzo Tooley Street anda| he wished |ahis honour |bhis lordship the Masterb|a| the bannocks of Gort and Morya and Bri Head and Puddyrick|a, year loudship,a| — a strange wish for you|a, my friend, |bthough your own old floruerunts heaved it oddtimesb|a| and it would poleaxe your sonsonsgrandnephew utterly —3| and how brightly the great tribune outed |3his the3| smokewallet |3from his frock3| and he |3gives tips3| him a topping swank cheroot|3, none of yere swellish soide,3| and he says he was to just bluggy well suck that brown boyo|3, my son,3| and spend a whole half hour in Havana. |3And any dog's |aday lifea| you |alist youa| may hear them, |aulemamen and sobranjewomen menulema and womensobranjea| and stortingboys and blank as they pass the bleak bronze portal of our house of parliament. |aEt pia alors.a| |aMillecentotrentadue Millecientotrigintaduea| scudi. Semeron den didomen pisterin, aorion eukaristos. |aTipote, Kyrie! |bCha ke rotty ke makkar, sahib? |cDesculpe me, despenseme Usted,c| senhor, en son succo. |cO, thaw bron urm, Cothraige! Lick-Pa flaid-hai-pa-Palisi liang-liang!c|b|a| Et pia |aalors, lor,a| écoute, |abatiste,a| |avous allez venir tu vas vnira| dans le ptit |acoin! boing coing!a| |aIsmene |bde bumbacb|! |bsee e meiasb| ciorapi de portocalliu! O! O! Os pipos mios es por O piccolo pocchino!a| Accidempoli! |aHuru mor nee|b, minny frickensb|! Hvorledes har De det|b, Opvarterb|? |bLast Lostb| door on left, |bmedear miladies, cueb|.a| Eine |aläusige lowsigea| |xGesoldschriftx| Gesellschaft. |aBin so frei!a| Es defunread gesmanado gruarso por |ala Oa| boquillas. |aHvormegel Wie feela|? Un duro! Kocsis, szabad? Merci Mercy, and you? |xAlb, alb!x| |xWie einst in Mai.x| |x|aEine ganz gemeg Hurenpartie Eyina gonz gounread Horenpartiea|!x| |aGomagh, thak.)a|3| And says he|3: with mugger's ears in his |ain hisa| eyes, |aMy dear Meggeg, M'deara| fellow,3| As |3sure sicker3| as eggs is known to be |3what which3| they commercially are in |3ahoy3| high British quarters my business credit will immediately stand |3ohohoh3| open as straight as that neighbouring monument's fabrication before the hygienic |3globe glllll3| (this was where the reverent |3sabbath sabboth3| and bottlebreaker|3, with firbalk forthstretched,3| |3uncovered himself of touched upon3| his tricoloured boater, cordially |3inviting invitin3| the adolescents |3whom who3| he was wising up to do in like manner |3which what3| all did so |3that as3| he was able to add) |3globe obe3| before the great schoolmaster's |3eye. Smile3|.º
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|3Life, he himself said once, is a wake|a, livit or krikit,a| and in on the bunk of our breadwinning lies the cropse of our seedfather.3|

The scene|3, refreshed,3| was never to be forgotten for later in the century one of that little band of factferreters (then an ex civil servant retired under the sixtyfive act) rehearsed it |3with a dignified bow3| to a cousin of the late archdeacon F.X. Preserved Coppinger in a pullwoman of our own transhibernian with one still sadder circumstance which is a prime |3heartskewer dirkanddurk heartskewerer3| if ever was. |3Cycloptically through the windowdisks |aand with eddying awesa| the round eyes of the rundeisers beheld the clad pursue the bare, the bare the green, the green the frore, the frore the clad again, as their convoy wheeled encircingly |aaround abounda| the gigantic lifetree, our fireleaved |aloverluckya| blomsterbom, phoenix |aof ina| our woodlessness, |ahaughty, cacuminal, erubescent,a| whose roots |aare ashes they be asches with lustes |b& peines of peinsb|a|.3| For as often as the archdeacon spoke of it by request all hearing the cousin's description of that fellowcommuter's play of countenance could simply imagine themselves |3in their bosom's inmost core|a, timesported across the yawning (abyss)a|3| as oncetheywere seasiders listening to the cockshyshooter's evensong evocation of the doomed |3liberator but always ventriloquent Agitator |a(no not more |bplangorloud plangorpoundingb| the billows o'er Thounawoohalya reef!)a|, silkhouatted against the dusk of skumring3|, his manslayer's gunwielder protended towards the overgrown leadpencil which was soon monumentally to rise as Molyvdokondylon to be his mausoleum |3(O'dan stod |atil tila| steyne at meisies aye skould |atib pawna|)3|, while |3over ollover3| his exculpatory features|3, as Roland rang,3| the ghost of resignation diffused a spectral appealingness similar in origin and in effect to a beam of sunshine upon a coffinplate.

|3|aWhat formal cause made a smile of to think?a| Who was he to whom? |aWhere are the placewheres?a| They answer |afrom |ball zoas their zoansb|a|. Hear the four of them! Hark, the roar of them! |aBoreas and Brisias and |bLasias Laziasb| and Lysias. Atssattarass.a| I, says Armagh, and |aam a'ma| proud of it! I, says Clonakilty, God help |ame usa|! I, says Deansgrange, and say nothing! |aI Mea|, says Barna, what about it! Hee haw!3| |3Before he fell hill he filled heaven; a sdream, a lapping streamlet, coyly coiled him, cool of her curls. We were thermites then, wee wee. |aOur antheap we felt as a Hill of Allen, the Barrow of a People, a Jotnur's Fjell.a| And it was a grumbling among the |aporkbrutes porktroopa| that we terrorstruck as thunder. Now,3|

Thus the |3data unfacts3| did we possess them are too imprecisely few to warrant our certitude, the |3testifiers evidencegivers3| |3by legpoll3| too untrustworthily irreperible |3where the adjudgers are seemingly freak threes and the judicandees plainly minus twos3|, but certain one thing is that ere the following winter had turned the leaves of the book of nature the shadow of the huge outlander had bulked at the bar of thrice a hundred tribunals, in manor hall as in thieves' |3kitchen kitchens3|, here sentenced ere tried with Jedburgh justice, there acquitted against evidence with benefit of clergy. |3Big |aThe Hisa| Thing |aModa| have undone |ahima|: and his mad Thing thing has done him Man. His beneficiaries are Legion; they number up his years. Greatwheel Dunlop was the name on him |ain the part he createda|. Behung, we are |aalla| his bisaacles. Was As hollyday in his house, so was he priest and king to that: blank came, envy saw, ivy conquered. They have waved his green boughs o'er him or they have torn him limb for limb. |aFor his mortification and expiration and damnation and annihilationa| But big3|, human, erring and forgivableº the unforgettable |3shade treeshade3| looms up behind all the varied judgements of those |3unrecapturable, as all should owe, malrecapturable3| days.

|3Three soldiers Tap & pat & tapat again. Three tommies, soldiers three, cockaleek & capapee,3| of the Coldstream guards were walking in |3(pardonnez leur, je vous en prie!)3| Montgomery street. One voiced an opinion in which all |3on either side|a, nodding,a| |x(pardonnez!)x|3| concurred |3(je vous en prie!)3|. It was the first woman, they said|3, souped him3|. |3He showed himself a man afterwards. Wroth till eldfar, ruth redd stillstand, wrath —- wruth3| |3confessed |aprivatea| Pat Marchison. |xRetrox|3| One of our coming |3actresses Vauxhall ontheboards |awho is resting for the momenta|3| (|3who she3| has been called by a noted |3elocution3| critic a |3vestpocket waistpocket3| Siddons) was interviewed in a westend beauty parlour and |3looking perhaps even more beautiflushed, Mrs F— A—3| said, while righting her cartwheel hat, she hoped he would |3get a Christmas pardon git a Chrissmas portrout with |ahollyg and eder hollegg and ethera|3| and two pound |3parcel porcel3| because the |3world worryld3| had
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been |3unkind uncained3|. Then he has been so entirely |3wonderful, she added wanderful, added she3|. A dustman named Sevenchurches in the employ of |3Ashburn3| Bullwinkle and |3McTigue Ashburn, prayermakers,3| was asked |3by the brotherhood3| the |3vexed3| question during |3the his3| midday |3repast collation |aof the spuds and tripea|3| in a hashhouse and |3replied responsed3|: We have just been discussing |3this case his nullity suit3| |3among my own crush3|. All our fellows |3at O'Dea's3| say he is a |3thorough sport |athorough sport, buck it all cemented brick, buck it alla|3|. A more than usually sober |3taxidriver |atrapdriver cardrivera|3|, who was |3|xjauntinglyx|3| hosing his runabout, Ginger Jane, took a strong view. |3He talked Larry hosed3| as he |3worked talked3| and this is what |3he |aLorry hea|3| told |3newspapermen rewritemen3|: |3Earywigger |aIrewagger Irewakera|3| is just a plain pink joint |3scoundrel |alouser blanka|3| in private life but folks all have it he has parliamentary honours. A |3reformed3| railway barmaid's view |3(they call her Spilltears Ruth)3| was thus expressed: |3Ehim! It is too late to whistle when Phyllis |awets her floods hera| stables.3| It would be a crying shame|3, honour bright,3| to jail |3him ehim in lockup3| no matter what |3wrongdoing went on merry tricks he went on with his revulveher3| in consequence of |3him enjoying such weak health ehim enjoining such wicked illth3|. |3A wouldbe |asaint was martyr, whena| grilled on the point, revealed the fact blank3| Brian Linskey, the |3boy cub3| curser,º was questioned and gave a snappy comeback, when saying: |3Once more I say3| I am for caveman sex, curse it! Them two women ought to be strangled, curse them, I say! |3Paw!3| Missioner Ida Wombwell, the seventeen year old revivalist, said concerning the incident of interfering with |3fusiliers grenadiers3| and other |3respectable and disgusted3| persons using the park: That |3man perpendicular person3| is a |3brute brut3| — but a magnificent |3brute brut3|. |3Well done, Drumcollakill! was the reply of a B.O.T. official while the sisters daughters murmured in unison: God forgive the jury!3| Sylvia Silence, the girl detective, when supplied with information as to the several |3facts facets3| of the case in her cosy |3dozy3| bachelor's flat |3quite3| overlooking John a Dream's mews leaned back in her really truly easychair to query restfully |3in |ahera| vowelthreaded |asyllables syllabellesa|3|: Have you thought, |3reporter wepowtew3|, that |3sheer greatness sheew gweatness3| was his |3tragedy twagedy3|? |3Nevertheless according Nevewtheless accowding3| to my |3attitude considered attitudes in this causewie3| he should pay the full penalty as |3per by3| section eleven |3subsec 323| of the C.L.A. act 1885. |3Meagher,3| A naval rating, seated on the granite |3cromlech3| setts of our new |3fishmarket fishshambles3| in |3silent lovemaker's3| contemplation of a kit of plaice, was encouraged by his |3fiancée |aone of hisa| affianced |aafter the ever popular acta|3| to |3speak get |ahis youra| breath, Walt,3| and |3said replied to her thankskissing3|: I lay |3my3| two |3bob fingerbuttons, fiansee, Meagher,3| he was to blame about |3the your3| two |3slaveys as he had his perfect right velvetthighs |aup Horniman's Hilla| as hook an eye blame him, |aor any other fishman,a|3| but I also think |3bet my |alast bottoma| blarney3| |3by the siege of his |atrousers trouthersa|3| there was someone else behind it about |3the their3| three drummers |3|ain downa| Keysers Lane3|.º
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|3Be these |abut meera| marchant taylor's fablings? |aHath humankind, one is fain in this leaden age of letters now to wit,a|3| Can it be that so diversified outrages |3(they have yet to come)3| |3beyessed to or denayed of,3| were planned and partly carried out against so staunch a covenanter if it is true that any of those recorded ever took place for many are given to us by some|3, we trow,3| who handle the truth but sparingly and we|3, on this side,3| ought to be sorry for their pricking pens on that account. |3The city The seventh city, his citadear3| of refuge |3beyond the outbraved gales of Atreeatic,3| whither he had fled |3(|ashipalone, a raven on the waves,a| |abraving the gales of Atreeatic,a| if we believe the laimen and their counts) |abraving thea|3| from the Eastmen's |3land dirtby on the old vik3| to forget in expiating manslaughter, the wastobe land in which by the fourth commandment with promise his days apostolic were to be long, |3by the abundant mercy of Him Which thundereth from on high |ablanka|3| murmured, would rise against with all which in them were, do him hurt, poor jink, ghostly following bodily, as were he made a curse for them, the corruptible lay quick, all saints of incorruption of an holy nation, the common or back garden castaway in red resurrection of damnation|3. So soº3| they might convince him|3, |athe firsta| pharaoh,3| of their proper sins. Businessbred to |3speak with3| a stiff upper lip |3for to3| all men and most occasions |3he Humpheres Cheops Exarchas3| took nothing short of good fighting chances but for all that he or his were subjected to the |3horrors of the3| |3|afirst premiera|3| terror |3of |aErrland (perhaps) Errorland (perrorhaps)a|3|.

|3We seem to us (the real Us) to be reading |aour Amenti ina| the |asixth sealeda| chapters of the going forth by |anight darka|.3| |3It was after the show at Wednesburg,3| One tall man, |3on his |away home home waya| from |aa show the second housea|,3| humping a suspicious parcel, when returning late |3amid a dense particular3| by the old spot|3, Roy's Corner,3| had a barking revolver placed to his face |3with the words: you're shot:3| by an unknown assailant (masked) against whom he had been jealous |3over Lotta Crabtree3|. More than that when the waylayer |3without more how do3| (not a Lucalizodite |3|aor even of the |bGlendaloughb| diocesea| but hailing from |athe prow ofa| Little Britain3|), mentioning |3in a bytheway3| that he had a loaded |3pistol Hobson's3| which left only |3two twin3| alternatives as|3, viceversa,3| either he would surely shoot |3him her |aby pistol|b, |che shec| could be sure of that,b|a|3| or, failing of that, bash in |3his Patch's3| face beyond recognition, pointedly asked |3with galish gall3| |3what wodka the blizzards3| business |3he Thornton3| had with |3the Kane's3| fender |3he was only to be3| answered by the aggravated assaulted that that was |3the snaps3| for him|3, Midweeks,3| to |3sultry well3| find out |3if he was showery well able3|. But how transparently untrue|3, gentle writer3|! |3Six His3| feet one is not a tall |3man3|, not at all. Was it supposedly |3in connection with a girl or3| to explode |3or to and3| force |3an a shrievalty3| entrance that the heavily built man in a butcherblue blouse from |3One Life One Suit3| |3(3| a men's wear store|3)3| with a |3most decisive3| bottle of single stout in his possession, seized |3after dark3| by the town guard |3in H.C.E.'s very at have you caught emerod's temperance3| gateway, was there in the |3gateway gate's way3|? |3How Fifthly, how3| truetoned on first time of hearing his statement that|3, muttering Irish,3| he had had |3O gloriously3| a lot too much |3horseshoe |awine finea|3| to drink |3in his shiphotel3| and was only falling |3fluthered3| up against the
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|3gatepier gatestonepier3| which|3, with the cow's bonnet on top of it,3| he |3took falsetook3| for a |3rubbingpost cattlepillar3| with |3only peaceable purel purest peaceablest3| intentions. Yet how lamely |3proceeds hobbles the hoy of3| his then |3pseudojocax3| explanation that |3, true for him,3| he was |3a writserver & was3| merely trying to open the |3bottle of stout bottlof stou3| by hammering |3it his magnum bonum3| against the |3tiltyard3| gate |3(the curter the club the merer the savage)3| for the boots |3in the place about the |ablind pig swana|3|, Maurice Behan, who hastily threw on a pair of |3|aolda| Sir Bunchamon's3| pants |3stepped into his shoes3| and came down |3from the wastes o'sleep3| in his |3socks obi3| without |3coat or collar overclothes or choker3|, attracted by the |3noise norse3| of gunplay, said he was surprised safe in bed when |3wakened wokened3| up |3with a |afourtha| loud snore3| out of |3the his3| land of byelo by hearing hammering emanating from the |3gate blind pig |aand anything like it he nevera|3|. This battering |3babel3| all over the door and sideposts, he always said, was not in the very remotest like |3the babble of3| a bottle of |3stout boose3| which would not rouse him out of |3rest slumber deep3| but |3far reminded him loads3| more |3like undue noise |alike undue noises of marsesa|3| from foreign |3musical instruments musikants' instrumongs3| or the |3overture overthrew3| to the |3last day third last days of pompery3|, if anything.

|3Just one moment! A |alittle pinch in timea| of the ideal, |agentlemen musketeersa|.3|

|3Notice a fellow Note an old geeser3| who calls on his skirt. Note his sleek hair, so elegant, tableau vivant. He vows her to be his own honeylamb, swears they will be |3papa3| pals, by Sam, and share good times way down west in a guaranteed happy lovenest when May moon |3she3| shines |3and they twinkle all the night, combing the comet's tail and shooting popguns at the stars. For good old grumpapar, he's gone on the razzledar, |aby froma| gazing and crazing and blazing at the stars. She wants |aher wardrobea| to hear with cash so as she can buy her trousseau & cut a dash with Arty, Bert |aand ora| Charley Chance, so tolloll Herr Hunker you're too |aold dadaa| for me to dance and that's how all the girls in town has got their bottom |adrawers drarsa| while grumpapar he's trying to hitch his braces up to his stars.3| but that guy he's not so clean dippy between sweet you and I (not on your life, boy! not in these trousers! not by a large jugful!) for someplace on the sly that guy has his girl number two and he would like to canoodle her too some part of the time for he is downright fond of his own number one but O he's fair mashed on peachy number two so that if he could only canoodle the two all three would |3feel3| genuinely happy, the two numbers, that is, with their mutual chappy (for he is simply shamming dippy) if they were afloat in a dreamlifeboat, his tippy canoe, his tippy up and down dippy tiptoptippy canoodle can you|3.?3| With this our friends the fender and the bottle at the gate seem on a parallel basis, bearing several of the earmarks of a plot for there is in fact no use putting a tooth on a thing of that sort and the amount of that sort of thing which was going on among a certain set of individuals was simply stupendous.

|3But to resume3| Whether or no next morning it |3was will be3| the |3constant3| postman's (officially
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called |3lettercarrier carrier, Letters Scotch, Limited3|) strange fate to hand in an envelope superscribed to Humpty, pot and gallows King |3written in a myriad of |ahands inks |bcomposed in that siamixed two at a talk, used by stern swift to jolly roger,b|a| addressed to His Choicer blank and signed by a |alaughable party Laughable Partya| with an afterthought3|. |3This |akiribisa| pouch, filled with litterish fragments, lurks |adormanta| as we are in the paunch of that |abrother half brothara| of a herm, a pillarbox.3| The coffin, |3a triumph of the illusionist's art,3| at first |3sight blench3| naturally taken for a |3fender |aharp handharpa| (it is hard to distinguish jubube from tubube or either from cubube when all three have just been invened)3|, had been removed from the hardware premises of Oetzmann and Nephews, a noted house of the middle east which, as an ordinary everyday transaction, continued to supply funeral requisites of every needed description. |3The girl or girls he had met and the |auprighta| three who came right up with him there is nothing about them. In fact they have not been mentioned.3| In the |3companion bottled |asunshine heliosea|3| case, continuing, |3long Laddy Cummins Long Lally Tobkits3|, the |3guard special|a, sporting a fine breast of medals,a|3| and a conscientious scripturereader to boot, swore |3like a norewheezian3| on the witness stand before the proper functionary that |3he was up against a querrshnort of a mand in3| the butcher |3in of3| the blouse |3who, he guntinued, |aon last epeninga|3| after delivering some carcases |3and meatjutes3| on behalf of |3Messrs Otto Sands &3| Eastman, |3Limerick3| victuallers, went and |3to his unmitigated amazement,3| |3kick3| kicked at the |3door dun and dooras3| |3against all the runes3| and, when challenged about this on his solemn |3oath3| by the |3imputant3| imputed, said simply: |3I am on my oath. I ap op pie oath, Phillys.3| You did, as I |3stressed sostressed3| before. You are deeply in error, sir, |3Mr Mrs Tomkims,3| let me then tell you, denied|3, with a salaam,3| MacPartland (the meatman's family name)º

|3This |aNow for the obverse.a| From velveteens to dimities is |abut barelya| a handspan and this3| |3camelsback3| outrage was thought to have been instigated by either or both of the |3causing causes of all,3| rushy hollow heroines |3|ain their skirtsleeves,a| the margretta or the posque. Oh! Oh! Because3|. It is a horrible thing to have to say but one |3dilalah, Lupita Lorette3| shortly after|3, in a fit of the unexpectednesses,3| drank carbolic with all her |3dear3| life before her |3and paled off3| while her sister-in-love, |3Luperca Latouche,3| finding one day when doing chores that she stripped well |3and that her galbs were glad to see themselves, the nautchy girl3| soon found her fruitful hat too small for her and rapidly took to necking, partying and selling her spare time in the haymow and in lumber closets |3|ain the greenawn ad huc or in the dear old |bchurchyardb| close itself,a| |xfor a bit of soft coal or |aa supply an arraya| of thin trunksx| serving him in fine the same |arabbit |bhotb| coneya| à la zingara as our Graunya |aof the chilired cheeksa| served to the greatfather of Oscar3|. |3|aHouri of the coast of Emerald. Arrah of the lacessive poghue.a| Did not |ashe sheself, come Leinster's eve, |btrue |cdaughter dotterc| of a |cdiarmud dearmudc|, |xwith so walkirry valkirry a licence as sent many a poor pucker to perditionx|,b| again and again, aya| thrice sfidare him |ato topplea|, tease fido, eh tease fido, eh eh tease fido? And did not he |alike Arcoforty, farfar of Bisavolo,a| misbrand her behaveyour |ain witha| iridescent huecry of down right mean false sop lap sick dope? |a|bSo gave, so take.b| Now not, not now. |bHe would just a min. Suffering |cwheat trumpetc|! He thought he want. What?b| Hear, O hear, living of the land! Hungreb, dead era, |bhear harkb|! He |bhears |chea he, eyes ravenous on her lippling lillsc|b|. |bHe hears! |cZay, zay, zay.c| He hear his voi of |cdays dayc| gon by.b| But cannot answer.a| Nor needs none shaft |afrom Phenicia |bor Little Asiab|a| to obelize on the |aspot spouta| nor sunkenness |ain Tomar's wooda| to bewray how erpressgangs score off the rued.3| |3But a A3| very little |3home3| thought should allow the facts to fall in and take |3too3| up their due places. If violence to life, limb and chattels has as often as not been the expression, direct or through a male agent, of offended womanhood |3(ah! ah!)3| has not levy of blackmail from the |3farthest ages times the fairies were in it3| followed an impressive private reputation for whispered sins.

|3First, a gateway Now turn |awheela| to the whole of the wall. |aThere was once upon a wall and a hooghoog wall it was and such a wallhole did exist.a| A stonehinged gate3| there was for |3one another3| thing |3for while3| the suroptimist had bought and enlarged that shack under fair rental of one yearly sheep, value of sixpence, and one small yearly pig, value of eightpence, to grow
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old and happy in |3by King's bounty3| for the remaining years and when everything was got up for the purpose he put a gate on the place by no means as some pretend a bedstead in |3lieu loo3| of a gate to keep out donkeys |3(the pigdirt hanging from the jags to this hour makes that clear)3| and just thenabouts the |3gate iron gape|a, by old custom left open to prevent the cat from getting at the goat,a|3| was |3locked triplepatlocked3| on him on purpose by his faithful |3people poorters3| to keep him inside |3probably and possibly3| in case he felt like sticking out his chest too far and tempting gracious providence by a stroll |3on |anational the nation'sa| eggday3|, unaccostomed as he was yet to being freely clodded. |3O, by the by,3| It ought to be always remembered in connection with what has gone before that there was a |3commercial northroomer3| stopping |3in |aat ina| no 32 at3| the Rum and Puncheon earlier than that|3, a commercial |a|bfrom the U.S.Eb|, paying 11/- in the week |b(Gosh, those wholly romads!)b|,a|3| and he missed |3a soft |ahat felta| and|a, take this in,a|3| six |3pounds quid3| fifteen |3|aof hisa| conscience money3| |3in the first deal of Yuly3| and found his |3coat melton3| disturbed. |3Now you must know that3| The gate |3and butchery3| business was in fact a tissue of threats and abuse and after this sort. Humphrey's unsolicited visitor |3from the middle west3|, after having blown some |3quaker quaker's3| oaks |3(for you!)3| in through the keyhole to attract attention, |3promised bleated in3| through the gate outside which he was |3|abawling bowlinga|3|, first, that he would break his head for him, next, that he would break the gate over his |3lankyduckling3| head the same way he would crack a nut with a monkeywrench and, last of all, that he would give him his (|3Humphrey's or the umperor's3|) blood to drink. He demanded |3more |awooda|3| alcohol to |3begin pitch3| with|3, alleging that his grandfather's was all taxis |a& that it was only after 10 o'connella|,3| and then |3not easily discouraged, opened the floodgates of his wrath &3| went on at a |3great wicked3| rate |3abusing weathering against3| him from |3ten up to one eleven thirty to two3| in the afternoon without even a luncheonette interval. Earwicker, longsuffering, under restraint in the sitting out corner of his conservatory |3behind faminebuilt walls3|, his thermos flask |3and ripidion flabel3| by his side |3and a walrus whiskerbristle for a tuskpick3|, compiled a long list (now feared |3in part3| lost) to be kept on file of all the abusive names he was called (|3Firstnighter3| informer, old fruit, yellow whigger, wheatears, goldy goat, bogside beauty, York's porker, funnyface, white elephant, |3Dirty |aGreasy Grease with thea|3| Butter, Ireland's Eighth Wonderful Wonder, Hoary Hairy Hoax, |3Big Bloody Moonface the3| Murderer, Midnight Sunburst, Swad Puddlefoot, gouty ghibellino, loose Luther, muddle the plan, |3|a|bLuck before Wedlock,b| I Divorce Thee, Husband, Barebarean,a| Peculiar Person, |a|bGrunt Owl's Facktotem,b| Twelve Months' Aristocrat, Lycanthrope,a| Cumberer of God's Holy Ground, Scuttle to Cover, |aRuin of the Small Trader Armenian Atrocity, Milkbutterbeard Sickfish Bellyup,a| |aPerson Mana| Devoid of the Commoner Characteristics of an Irish Nature, |aHraabhraab, Coocoohandler,a| Dirt, Micher from your Home, |aBad Humborg,a| Woolworth's Worst,3| guineapig's bastard, boose in the bed, mister |3fatmeat fatmate3|) but did not |3otherwise3| respond |3a solitary wedgeword3| beyond such sedentarity, though it was as easy as |3kisshands kissanywhere3| for |3him the passive resistant in the booth he was in3| to reach for the hello grip and
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ring up |3Crumlin exchange Kimmage Outer 17.673|, because, as |3he the fundamentalist3| explained, touching his wounded feelings in the future, the dominican mission was on at the time and he thought |3it the |aRomish Rowmisha| devoution known as the howly rowsary3| might reform him|3, Gunn3|. |3The That3| more than considerably unpleasant bullocky before he rang off |3drunkishly3| pegged a few |3stones |arocks polished stonesa|3| all of a size |3at the wicket in support of his words3| but possibly his seeing |3through his semisubconscious3| the seriousness of what he might have done had he really carried out his terrible intention |3made him finally caused him to change the |abowling bawlinga| and |afinallya|3| leave down the |3stones whole grumus |aof flatnosed ammunitiona| |aof |bbrookb| pebblesa| pingpong3| and, having sobered up a bit, this backblocks boor left the |3paleolithic3| scene after exhorting Earwicker or |3in slightly modified phraseology3| Mr Earwicker|3, his name of multitude3| to |3cocoa3| come outside |3to Mockerloo out of that3| |3cod's curse to him3| out of that |3with his broody old flishguds |afor the honour of Crumlina|3| so as he could |3brianslog and3| burst him all up|3, you go bail,3| |3and build |astones rocksa| over him3| or if he didn't |3for two and thirty straws, be |aCaca, bea| Campbell,3| he didn't know what he wouldn't do to him |3nor nobody else no more nor him,3| after which |3he |atold him goodbye bit goodbye to his thumba| and, |ahumming playing on the change of his |bmanjester'sb| voicea| the pantomime topical My schemes into abeyance for this time has had to fall3| he proceeded |3with a Hubbleforth slouch |ain |bthe hisb| slipsa|, backwords (Et Cur Heli?)3| in the |3direction directions3| of the deaf and dumb |3institution institutions3| about ten or eleven |3minutes walk hundred years lurch3| away |3in the moonshiny gorge of Patself on the Bach3|.

|3|aBut he made leave to many a door beside |bof Finglas wealdb| for his cairns are are |bat browseb| up hill and down coombe and on eolithostroton, at Howth or at Coolock or even at Enniskerry and Oliver's lambs we call them.a| Liverpoor? Not a bit of it. |aHis brains |bcold cooledb| porridge, his pelt nassy, his heart adrone, his bloodstream acrawl, his puff but a piff, his extremities extremely more so. |bHypnos — — Humph is in his doge.b| Words say no more to him than |bthe rain |cthe rain to Rathfarnham raindrops to Rathfarnhamc|b|. Which we like. |bRain.b| When we sleep. Drop.ºa|3|