Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [160]
4 The Doodles family, Hoodle doodle, fam.?
Want to join the police.1 You know, you
were always one of the bright ones, since
a foot made you an unmentionable, fakes !
You know, you’re the divver’s own smart
gossoon, aequal to yoursell and wanigel to
anglyother, so you are, hoax! You know,
you’ll be dampned, so you will, one of
these invernal days but you will be,
carrotty! 2
Wherapool, gayet that when he stop look
Primanouriture
SICK US A
and Ultimo-
time he stop long ground who here hurry
SOCK WITH
geniture No
he would have ever the lothst word, with a
SOME SEDI Sturm. No
sweet me ah err eye ear marie to reat from
MENT IN IT
Drang.
FOR THE
the jacob’s3 and a shypull for toothsake of
SAKE OF OUR
his armjaws at the slidepage of de Vere
DARNING
Foster, would and could candykissing P.
WIVES.
Kevin to fress up the rinnerung and to ate
by hart (leo I read, such a spanish,
escribibis all your mycoscoups) wont to
nibbleh ravenostonnoriously ihs mum to
me in bewonderment of his chipper
chuthor for, while that Other by the halp
of his creac-tive mind offered to
deleberate the mass from the booty of
fight our Same with the holp of the bounty
of food sought to delubberate the mess
from his corructive mund, with his
muffetee cuffes ownconsciously
grafficking with his sinister cyclopes after trigamies and spirals’ wobbles pursuiting
their rovinghamil-ton selves and
godolphing in fairlove to see around the
waste of noland’s browne jesus 4 (thur
him no quartos!) till that on him poorin
sweat the juggaleer’s veins (quench his
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Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
quill!) in his napier scrag stud out
bursthright tam1 Picking on Nickagain, Pikey Mikey?
2 Early morning, sir Dav Stephens, said the First Gentleman in youreups. 3 Bag bag blockcheap, have you any will?
4 What a lubberly whide elephant for the men-inthe-straits!
quam taughtropes. (Spry him! call a blood
Illustration.
Ascription of
lekar! Where’s Dr Brassenaarse?) Es war
the Active.
itwas in his priesterrite. O He Must Suffer
Proscription of
! From this misbelieving feacemaker to his
the Passive.
noncredible fancyflame.1 Ask for
bosthoon, late for Mass, pray for
blaablaablack sheep. (Sure you could
wright anny pippap passage, Eye bet, as
foyne as that moultylousy Erewhig,
yerself, mick! Nock the muddy nickers!2
Christ’s Church varses Bellial !) Dear and
he went on to scripple gentlemine born,
milady bread, he would pen for her, he
would pine for her,3 how he would patpun
fun for all4 with his frolicky frowner so
and his glumsome grinner otherso. And
how are you, waggy?5 My animal his
sorrafool! And trieste, ah trieste ate I my
liver! Se non ‚ vero son trovatore. O jerry!
He was soso, harriot all! He was sadfellow,
steifel! He was mister-mysterion. Like a
purate out of pensionee with a
gouvernament job. All moanday, tearsday,
wailsday, thumpsday, frightday,
shatterday till the fear of the Law. Look at this twitches! He was quisquis, floored on
his plankraft of shittim wood. Look at
him! Sink deep or touch not the Cartesian
spring! Want more ashes, griper? How
diesmal he was lying low on his rawside
laying siege to goblin castle. And, bezouts
that, how hyenesmeal he was laying him
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
long on his laughside lying sack to
croakpartridge. (Be thou wars Rolaf’s
intes1 And she had to seek a pond’s apeace to salve her suiterkins. Sued!
2 Excuse theyre christianbrothers irish?
3 When she tripped against the briery bush he profused her allover with curtsey flowers.
4 A nastilow disigraible game.
5 Dear old Erosmas. Very glad you are going to Penmark. Write to the corner. Grunny Grant.
tions, quoths the Bhagavat biskop Leech)
Ensouling Fe