Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [241]
Haugh! Haugh! 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 stenor-ious laugh (even Drudge that lay doggo thought feathers fell) hopped out of his wooly’s throat like file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
a ball lifted over the head of a deep field, at the bare thought of how jolly they’d like to be trolling his whoop and all of them truetotypes in missam-men massness 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, (Thou pure! Our virgin! Thou holy!
Our health! Thou strong! Our victory! O salutary! Sustain our firm solitude, thou who thou well strokest! Hear, Hairy ones! We have sued thee but late. Beauty parlous!) when suddenly (how like a woman!), swifter as mer-cury 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!) after which he pondered and finally he replied:
— There is some thing more. A word apparting and shall the heart’s tone be silent. Engagements, I’ll beseal you! Fare thee well, fairy well! All I can tell you is this, my sorellies. It’s prayers in layers all the thumping time, begor, the young gloria’s gang voices the old doxologers, in the suburrs of the heavenly gardens, once we shall have passed, after surceases, all serene through neck and necklike Derby and June to our snug eternal retribution’s reward (the scorchhouse). Shunt us! shunt us! shut us! If you want to be felixed come and be parked. Sacred ease there! The seanad and pobbel queue’s remainder. To it, to it! Seekit headup! No petty family squabbles Up There nor homemade hurricanes in our Cohortyard, no cupahurling nor apuckalips nor no puncheon jodelling nor no nothing. With the Byrns which is far better and eve for ever your idle be. You will hardly reconnoitre the old wife in the new bustle and the farmer shinner in his latterday paint. It’s the fulldress Toussaint’s wakeswalks experdition after a bail motion from the chamber of horrus. Saffron buns or sovran bonhams whichever you’r avider to like it and lump it, but give it a name. Iereny allover irelands. And there’s food for refection when the whole flock’s at home. Hog-manny di’yegut? Hogmanny di’yesmellygut?
And hogmanny di’yesmellyspatterygut? You take Joe Hanny’s tip for it!
Post-martem is the goods. With Jollification a tight second. Toborrow and toburrow and tobarrow! That’s our crass, hairy and ever-grim life, till one finel howdiedow Bouncer Naster raps on the bell with a bone and his stinkers stank behind him with the sceptre and the hourglass. 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 stop gap, with Whogoes-there and a live sandbag round the corner. But upmeyant, Pro— spector, you sprout all your abel and woof your wings dead certain however of neuthing whatever to aye forever while Hyam Hyam’s in the chair. Ah, sure, pleasantries aside, in the tail of the cow what a humpty daum earth file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
looks our miseryme here-today as compared beside the Hereweareagain Gaieties of the Afterpiece when the Royal Revolver of these real globoes lets regally fire of his mio colpo for the chrisman’s pandemon to give over and the Harlequinade to begin properly SPQueaRking Mark