Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [200]
men and save, sit and sew. And a pants outsizinned on the Doughertys’
duckboard pointing to peace at home. In some, lawanorder on lovinardor. Wait till we hear the Boy of Biskop reeling around your postoral lector!
Epistlemadethemology for deep dorfy doubtlings. As we’ll lay till break of day in the bunk of basky, O ! Our island, Rome and duty! Well tried, buckstiff! Batt in, boot ! Sell him a breach contact, the vendoror, the buylawyer One hyde, sack, hic! Two stick holst, Lucky! Finnish Make Goal! First you were Nomad, next you were Namar, now you’re Nu-mah and it’s soon you’ll be Nomon. Hence counsels Ecclesiast. There’s every resumption. The forgein offils is on the shove to lay you out dossier. Darby’s in the yard, planning it on you, plot and edgings, the whispering peeler after cooks wearing an illfor-mation. The find of his kind! An artist, sir! And dirt cheap at a sovereign a skull! He knows his Finsbury Follies backwoods so you batter see to your regent refutation. Ascare winde is rifing again about nice boys going native. You know who was wrote about in the Orange Book of Estchapel? Basil and the two other men from King’s Avenance. Just press this cold brand against your brow for a mow. Cainfully! The sinus the curse. That’s it. Hung Chung Egglyfella now speak he tell numptywumpty top-sawys belongahim pidgin. Secret things other persons place there covered not. How you fell from story to story like a sagasand to lie. Enfilmung infirmity. On the file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
because alleging to having a finger a fudding in pudding and pie. And here’s the witnesses. Glue on to him, Greevy! Bottom anker, Noordeece!
And kick kick killykick for the house that juke built! Wait till they send you to sleep, scowpow! By jurors’ cruces! Then old Hunphy-dunphyville’ll be blasted to bumboards by the youthful herald who would once you were. He’d be our chosen one in the matter of Brittas more than anarthur. But we’ll wake and see. The wholes poors riches of ours hundreds of manhoods and womhoods. Two cents, two mills and two myrds. And it’s all us rangers you’ll be facing in the box before the twelfth correctional. Like one man, gell. Between all the Misses Mountsackvilles in their halfmoon haemicycles, gasping to giddies to dye for the shame. Just hold hard till the one we leapt out gets her yearing ! Hired in cameras, extra! With His Honour Surpacker on the binge. So yelp your guilt and kitz the buck. You’ll have loss of fame from Wimme-game’s fake. Forwards! One bully son growing the goff and his twinger read out by the Nazi Priers. You fought as how they