FINNEGANS WAKE

transition

transition proofs, 1st set, February 1928, §2A draft level 8

MS British Library 47483 65-66, missing Draft details

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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 hose was at the weir by Lazar's Walk (for far and wide, as broad as he was long, 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 had tumbled slumbersomely on sleep at night duty behind the curing station, equilebriated amid the embraces of a monopolised bottle.
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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,
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all barely in their typtap teens, describing a charming dactylogram of nocturne, though repelled by the snores of the log who looked stuck to the sod as ever and oft, when liquefied, he murmoaned 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 who all they were girls all rushing for the post 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!) 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 sly one had she read Irish legginds and gently reproving one that the ham of her hom could be seen below her hem and whispring another aside that the hook of her hum was open a bittock at her back, to have a sideye to that, hom, and all of course just to fill up a form out of pure human kindness 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 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 bennydick godfather and heaven knows he thought the world and his life of her, poor, good, true, Jaun.
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— 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 |8sorely soeurlyº8| will miss us the moment we exit yet we feel as a martyr to the discharge of duty that it is about time 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 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
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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.

Now then, my galaxy girls, quiproquo of directions to henservants I was asking his advice from Father Mike, my dominican, and I am giving you now mikeadvice. During our brief absence 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. Never miss a bride's mass for the couple in Myles you chance to blindworship. Never curse good pork of a bad 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 in the Dar Bey Coll by tootling risky apropos songs at commercial travellers' smokers the like of White limbs they never stop teasing. And, by the by, is it you goes biting biscuits and then throws them bag in the box? 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 saucers. Never ask your first person the quickest way to our last place. Never slip the silver key through your gate of golden age. Never christen medlard apples till a swithin is in sight. Especially beware,
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please, of being at a party to any demoralising home life. That saps a chap. Recollect the perils that beset green girls once they get hobbyhorsical, playing breeches parts in pantos instead of trying to boil the dinner. Put your swell foot downmost on lowcut shortwaists and ribbons of lace, limenick's disgrace. Sure what is it on the whole only holes tied together? Whalebones and buskbutts may hurt you but never lay bare your breast secret to joy Jonas in the Dolphin's Barncar. And now comes Artist Algy, the pulcherman, asking you won't you pose in your nudies before voluble old masters. All blah! 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. The Sully vultures are on the prowl. Don't on any account acquire a paunchon for the fagend habit of chumming together in Mr Tunnelly's halldoorways with the end to commit acts of
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interstipital indecency as between twineties and tapegarters under the coverfew act. And is that any place to be smuggling his apples up? Begor, I like the way they're half cooked. Don't encourage that laney feeling for kissing within the proscribed limits like Population Peg does be doing to Temptation Tom. I cannot repeat enough that fetid spirits is the thief of prurities so none of your twenty rod cherrywhisks. And beware how you dare of wet cocktails in Kildare or the night may see your wedding driving home from your wake. Nor must you omit to screw the lid firmly on that jazz jiggery. Should you feel as though you needed healthy physicking exercise to flush your kidneys and move your bowels, lassy, why, out you go and skip. It's more important than air — I mean than food — air. 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 paws 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
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when closeted together (it's not the thing, you know) with the selfseeker
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under the influence of woman, 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 play pigglywiggly, bilgetalking 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, considering the marriage slump that's on and fleas three shillings a pint in the slack march of civilisation, were you to have and to hold, to pig and to pay, direct connection with a prominent member of the vicereeking squad and in consequence be flummoxed to the second degree by becoming a companykeeper on the dammymonde of Lucalamplight. 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 all those nightbirds and bitchfanciers, dosed
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and otherwise, and what their fickling intentions look like, you make up your mind to that) trespassing on your danger zone in the danger years. If ever I catch you at it, mind, it's you that will ketch it! I'll give it to you, hot, high and heavy! 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
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seat of unwisdom with my aunt's petted sister for the cause of his joy!

Poof! There's puff for ye, begorra! Whoo? Now something nice. Dear sister in perfect law 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. Swear by pious fiction the like of Lentil Lore by Carnival Cullen or Pease in Plenty by the Cury of Wars. Trip into the long lives of our saints cut short
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into instructual primers for the bittermint of your soughts. Remember, maid, thou art but powder and Cinderella thou shalt return. Cog that out of your teen times, everyone! Keep cool your fresh chastity which is far, far better, far. Sooner than part with that vestalite emerald of the first importance to 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
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likes. There's nothing to touch it 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 world who'll feel it? Hum! The jewel you're all so cracked about there's funking 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 and quite warming to her, divulge unto me I pray the curname in undress of any lapwhelp who talks to you upon the road where he tuk you to be a roller, O, and volunteers to trifle with your roundlings without taking out his proper password
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from the eligible minister for affairs with the black stranger in a cleanlooking light and (I don't care a tammany hang who the mucky is, were he even a namesake of my very own and uncommonly like my ancestor Old Father Knickerbocker about their faces) as sure as home we come 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 market man from that hour. And why do we say that, you may query me? 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 his two dimensions with your nuptial finger. Now, we'll tell you what we'll do instead of compensation. We'll burst his mouth like Leary to the Leinsterface. That'll be it, even should I have to comb the half of the Coombe round Patrick's close to lay my louseboob on his
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behaitch like Toss. I have his images all on my retinue, Mohomadhawn Mike. Moreover, after that bad manners to me if I don't think strongly about giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first policewoman in the field I might chance to follow. 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 and then wipe the street up with him? It should prove more or less of an event. 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 before his appointed time particularly should he turn out to be a man in brown about town of about fiftysix or so, the usual X Y Z type, with a toothbrush moustache and of course no beard, meat and mustard suit, washing tie, sipping some beer on a barstool, cigarette in his holder, with a good job and pension in Buinness's, blueygreen eyes a bit scummy and so on, having his favourite family of upwards of a decade to boot and care for.

So let it be a knuckle or an elbow. And lest there be no misconception over who to fasten the baby on you better keep in the straight (you baggage, do you hear what I'm praying?) or I'll be all over you myselx
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for knocking me and yourself down to a third price party as cheap as the dirt 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 tip for tap not to be playing your (8goddaughter oddaugghter8) tangotricks with micky dazzlers if I find your hair and the seatside of your burberry all covered with chaff and shavings. I'll homeseek you and here's how. For I'll just draw my dancer and give up one splitpuck in the crupper that will bring the warm blush of shame to your hindmost (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 year, failing to give a good account of yourself, if you think I'm so tan cupid as all that. And that's how I'll bottle your greedypuss beautibus for ye, me bullin heifer, for 'tis I that have the pair of arrams that carry a wallop between 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
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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 poet puts it somewhere better. Littlegame girl from Liffeyslidebank you fill a big roomy corner 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, positively cover the two pure cheeks of your comely plumpcake with sugary kissings 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 like massive mountains to part no more, you will there and then of our your soft accord rainkiss on me back for full marks with shouldered arms and in that united I.R.U. state when I come wildflier's fox into my own good 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 will immediately pending on my safe return to ignorance and bliss with my ropes of pearls for gamey girls the way ye'll hardly know me.

'Tis post purification we will and render social service, missus. Let us all ignite as aposcals
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and help our Jakeline sisters clean up the hogshole. Burn only what's Irish, accepting their coals. Write me an essay for Henrietta' sake on the life of jewses and the sludge of Harrington street running cursorily over the whole of it. Bear in mind all the provincials' bananas along Henry, Moore, Earl and Talbot streets. Look at all he's dung strewing the Castleknock road and (8my theº8) Marist fathers eleven out on a rogation stag party. Compare them caponchin trowlers with the Bridges of Belches in Fairview, east Dublin's favourite wateringplace, and ump as you lump it. Stand on, say, Aston's, at, suppose, 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,
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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 greatly mistaken indeed if you will not see how you will be meanwhile durn well topcoated with cakes of slush occasioned by the jam of the traffic in transit. When will the W.D. face of our muckloved city get its wellbelavered wash? Do you know what, little girls? One of those days I am advised to positively strike off hiking for good and all until such time as some mood is made to get me an increase of automoboil and footwear as I sartunly think now, honest to John, for an income plexus that that's about the sanguine boundary limit.

Sis dearest, Jaun added, melancholic this time, whiles his onsaturncast eyes in stellar attraction followed swift to an imaginary swellaw, O, the vanity of Vanissy! All ends vanishing! Personally, Grog help me, I am in no violent hurry. If time enough lost the ducks walking easy found them. I'd turn back as lief as not if I could only find the girl of my heart's appointment to guide me by gastronomy under her safe conduct. I'd ask no kinder of fates than to stay where I am, leaning on my cubits, at this passing moment by localoption in the birds' lodging the pheasants among, till well on into the bosom of the exhaling night, picking stopandgo jewels out of the hedges and catching brilliants on the tip of my wagger for them breezes zipping
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round by Drumsally do be devils to flirt. I could sit on one side till the bark of the day, laughing lazy at the sheep's lightning, till I'd followed through my upfielded nephewscope the rugaby moon cumuliously goarolling himself westasleep amuckst the clouscrums for to watch how carefully my nocturnal goosemother
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would lay her new golden sheegg for me down under in the shy orient. What wouldn't I give — my socks, my shoes, my shirt, honest! — for a feast of grannom with the finny ones, flashing down the swansway, leaps ahead of the Swift MacEels and the pursewinded carpers, rearin antis long perches astern of me, or, when I'd like own company best, with the help of a norange and bear, to be reclined on my other by the lasher, with the jealosomines wilting away to their heart's deelight and the king of saptimber letting down his special odours for my consternation, burning water in the spearlight or catching trophies of the king's royal college of sturgeons by the armful for to bake pie and pie while I'd tonic my twentyfour Dorian blackbirds off my singasongapiccolo to play musical airs, I give, a king, to me, she does, alone, up there, yes see, I double give. And what sensitive coin I'd be possessed
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of, begor, I'd sink it in subdominal poteen at prime cost and I bet you the whole ounce you half on your backboard that I'm the gogetter that'd make it pay like cash registers. And I'd come out zooming tophole on the mart as a factor. Nothing would stop me. And, zoom, before you knew where you weren't I stake my ignitial's davy I'd be staggering humanity and loyally rolling you over, my spouse, in tons of red clover, fiehigh and fiehigher and fiehighest again. I'd spoil you altogether. There'd be no standing me, I tell you. And as gameboy as my pagan name is what it is I'd never say let fly till I'd plant you, my Gizzygay, on the electric sofa in the lap of lechery among the most uxuriously furnished compartments 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 about Shoepisser Pluvius and the terrible
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colds playing around in the 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 I never could tell the least falsehood that would likely give satisfaction. I'm not talking apple sauce either. I'm earnest.

Sissibis dearest, as I was reading to myself not very long ago in Tennis Flannels MacCourther and
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just thinking like thauthor how long I'd like myself to be continued looking into the fire, '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 free upon this benedictine errand, but it is the most glorious mission in all our — as you so often term it — efferfreshpainted history. Still 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 to be going to meet a king, not an everynight king, no, by gannies, but the overking of Hither and Thither Erin himself 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 with the wholeabolish business! The fine ice of these our temperate times are not so far off as you might wish to be congealed. So now I'll ask of you let ye create no scenes in my poor wake. I don't want yous to be pillowfighting your biddy moriarty duels over me till you spit stout nor your ugly gobs round the hobs on your groaning chairs of a bluemonday when it's my benefit, robbing leaves out of my taletold book. Once upon
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a drunk and a fairly good drunk it was and the rest of your blatherumskite. Just a plain shays by the fire for absentee Jaun and I'll make ye all an eastern beauty of myself the moment that you name the way. Cheer up all round, let ye all, while I stray and let ye not be getting grief out of it on my poor headsake even should we forfeit our life. Some time very presently now when yon clouds are dissipated after their forty years' shower the odds are we shall all be gone and happy together among the fieldnights elycean in the land of lost of time. So cut out the lonesome stuff! Drink it up, ladies, please, as smart as you like. Parting's fun. Laugh! Sure, treasures, a letterman does be often thought reading ye between lines that do have no sense at all. Inflexibly yours. Ann Posht the Shorn. Huck!

Something of a sidesplitting nature must have occurred to westminstrel Jaunathaun for a grand big 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 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 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, little sisters. It's prayers in layers all the thumping time, begor, in the subbubs of the heavenly gardens. No petty family squabbles up there, cupahurling nor apuckalips nor no nothing. You take Joe Hanny's tip for it. Post Mortem is the goods. With Jollification a good second. Ah, sure, pleasantries aside, what a humptydaum earth looks our miseryme heretoday as compared beside the hereweareagain gaieties of the afterpiece when the harlequinade begins properly speaking.

Well, home cooking everytime. I enjoyed your pick of hissing hot luncheon fine, I did, (sublime!). Tenderest bully ever I ate with the boiled Protestants only for your peas was a bit too psalty and return
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with my best savioury condiments and a penny in the plate for the james. All the vitalmines is beginning to sozzle and very presently from now posthaste it's off your'll see me roll on my usual rounds again to draw Terminus Lower and Killadown 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
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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.

Well, Here's looking at ye! If I never leave you biddies I'd be tempted rightly to become a father. Ye can stop as ye are, little mothers, and wait in wish and wish in vain till the grim reaper draws nigh 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
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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. A tear or two in time is all there's toot. And then in a click of the clock, toot toot, and off we pop with sinners in silks lining longroutes for His Diligence Majesty, our longdistance laird that likes creation. To who!

— Of course, but listen, drawher nearest, Tizzy intercepted, flushing but flashing from her dove and dart eyes as she tactilifully grabbed her male corrispondee to fluster in his quickturned ear. I know, benjamin brother, but listen, I want to whisper my wish. 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 can call my own but all the same, listen, Jaunick, accept this widow's mite, though a little
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weeny piece torn in one place, from my hands in second place of a linenhall valentine with my fondest to tutor. X.X.X.X. It was heavily indulgenced for young Father Michael and you know who between us by your friend the pope, forty ways in forty nights, and, listen, now do enhance me, oblige my fiancy and bear it with you morn till life's e'en and, of course, when you make usage of it, listen, please kindly think again or again, never forget, of one absent one, not sister Maggy. Of course, Jer, I know you know who sends it on the face of the waters like that romance in the magginbottle. Of course, please write, won't you, and, thank you, forward it back by return in case any funforall happens so as I'll know what exquisite buttons 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 so I can live simply and solely for my wonderful hair. And listen to it! It will follow you publicly
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under all my eyes I will with nurse Maggy, she's a fright, poor girl, but she's nice, round the elbow of Erne Street Lower and I'll be strictly forbidden always and true in my own way and private. And, of course, dear professor, you can trust me that though I change thy name though not the letter never I will give your lovely face of mine away to my second mate, the engineer, in one of those pure
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clean kisses of yours thankfully, Arrah of the passkeys, no matter what. So don't keep me now for a good boy peppering with fear or I'll murder you but meet me after by next appointment near you know Ships just there beside the Ship at the future poor fool's corner of lovemountjoy square now I must really so late. And I'll be there when who knows where. The Dargle shall run dry as soon as I you deny. Everyday, precious, while memory's leaves are falling deeply I will dream dulcets on this isinglass stream where the frondoak rushes to the ashside and the yewleaves too kisskiss themselves, and 'twill carry my still water's reflections over Maggy to thee, Jack ahoy, beyond the boysforus. And what's this I was going to (8say, say.8) Listen, here I'll wait on you with beautiful Do Be Careful teacakes 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, I'll boy me for myself only of expensive grey rainproof of the loveliest widowshood over blue I am so wild for, my precious once, as the bee loves her skyhigh and listen. Always about this hour, I'm sorry, when I steal home, drenched, love, with dripping, to affectionate mother but last at night I'll poke straight under my isonbound for the night's foreign males and your name of Shane will come forth between my shamefaced when with other lips I next open my thighs the first morning. So now, thome, theated with Mag at the oilthan we are doing to thay one little player before doing to deed. Coach me how to tumble, Jaime, and, listen, Juan, warn me which to ah ah ah ah …