Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [176]
And the message she braught belaw from the missus she bragged abouve that had her agony stays outsize her sari chemise, blancking her shifts for to keep up the fascion since the king of all dronnings kissed her beeswixed hand, fang (pierce me, hunky, I’m full of meunders!), her fize like a tubtail of mondayne clothes, fed to the chaps with working medicals and her birthright pang that would split an atam like the forty file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
pins in her hood, was to fader huncher a howdydowdy, to mountainy mots in her amnest plein language, from his fain a wan, his hot and tot lass, to pierce his ropeloop ear, how, Podushka be prayhasd, now the sowns of his loins were awinking and waking and his dorter of the hush lillabilla lullaby (lead us not into reformication with the poors in your thingdom of gory, O moan!), once after males, nonce at a time, with them Murphy’s puffs she dursted with gnockmeggs and the bramborry cake for dour dorty dompling obayre Mattom Beetom_and epsut the pfot and if he was whishtful to licture her caudal with chesty chach from his dauberg den and noviny news from Naul or toplots talks from morrienbaths or a parrotsprate’s cure for ensevelised lethurgies, spick’s my spoon and the veriblest spoon, ’twas her hour for the chamber’s ensallycopodium with love to melost Panny Kostello from X.Y. Zid for to folly billybobbis gibits porzy punzy and she was a wanton for De Marera to take her genial glow to bed.
— This is time for my tubble, reflected Mr ‘Gladstone Browne’ in the toll hut (it was choractoristic from that ‘man of Delgany’). Dip.
— This is me vulcanite smoking, profused Mr ‘Bonaparte Nolan’ under the natecup (one feels how one may hereby reekig-nites the ‘ground old mahonagyan’). Dip.
— And this is defender of defeater of defaulter of deformer of the funst man in Danelagh, willingtoned in with this glance dowon his browen and that born appalled noodlum the panellite pair’s cummal delimitator, odding: Oliver White, he’s as tiff as she’s tight. And thisens his speak quite hoarse. Dip.
In reverence to her midgetsy the lady of the comeallyous as madgestoo our own one’s goff stature. Prosim, prosit, to the krk n yr nck!
O rum it is the chomicalest thing how it pickles up the punchey and the jude. If you’ll gimmy your thing to me I will gamey a sing to thee. Stay where you’re dummy! To get her to go ther. He banged the scoop and she bagged the sugar while the whole pub’s pobbel done a stare. On the mizzatint wall. With its chromo for all, crimm crimms. Showing holdmenag’s asses sat by Allme-neck’s men, canins to ride with em, canins that lept at em, woollied and flundered. So the katey’s came and the katey’s game. As so gangs sludge-nose. And that henchwench what hopped it dunneth there duft the. Duras. (Silents)
Yes, we’ve conned thon print in its gloss so gay how it came from file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
Finndlader’s Yule to the day and it’s Hey Tallaght Hoe on the king’s highway with his hounds on the