Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [271]
— Oh Finlay’s coldpalled!
— Ahday’s begatem !
— Were you there, eh Hehr? Were you there when they lagged um through the coombe?
— Wo wo! Who who! Psalmtimes it grauws on me to ramble, ramble, ramble.
— Woe! Woe! So that was kow he became the foerst of our treefellers?
— Yesche and, in the absence of any soberiquiet, the fanest of our truefalluses. Bapsbaps Bomslinger!
— How near do you feel to this capocapo promontory, sir?
— There do be days of dry coldness between us when he does be like a lidging house far far astray and there do be nights of wet windwhistling when he does be making me onions woup all kinds of ways. file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— Now you are mehrer the murk, Lansdowne Road. She’s threwed her pippin’s thereabouts and they’ve cropped up tooth oneydge with hates to leaven this socried isle. Now, thornyborn, follow the spotlight, please!Concerning a boy. Are you acquainted with a pagany, vicariously known as Toucher ‘Thom’ who is. I suggest Finoglam as his habitat. Consider yourself on the stand now and watch your words, take my advice. Let your motto be: Inter nubila numbum.
— Never you mind about my mother or her hopitout. I consider if I did, I would feel frightfully ashamed of admired vice.
— He is a man of around fifty, struck on Anna Lynsha’s Pekoe with milk and whisky, who does messuages and has more dirt on him than an old dog has fleas, kicking stones and knocking snow off walls. Have you ever heard of this old boy “Thom” or “Thim” of the fishy stare who belongs to Kimmage, a crofting dis-trict, and is not all there, and is all the more himself since he is not so, being most of his time down at the Green Man where he steals, pawns, belches and is a curse, drinking gaily two hours after closing time, with the coat on him skinside out against rapparitions, with his socks outsewed his springsides, clapping his hands in a feeble sort of way and systematically mixing with the public going for groceries, slapping greats and littlegets soundly with his cattegut belts, flapping baresides and waltzywembling about in his accountrements always in font of the tubbernuckles, like a longarmed lugh, when he would be finished with his tea?
— Is it that fellow? As mad as the brambles he is. Touch him. With the lawyers sticking to his trewsershins and the swatme-notting on the basque of his beret. He has kissed me more than once, I am sorry to say and if I did commit gladrolleries may the loone forgive it! O wait till I tell you!
— We are not going yet.
— And look here! Here’s, my dear, what he done, as snooks as I am saying so !
— Get out, you dirt! A strangely striking part of speech for the hottest worked word of ur sprogue. You’re not! Unhindered and odd times? Mere thumbshow? Lately?
— How do I know? Such my billet. Buy a barrack pass. Ask the horneys. Tell the robbers.
— You are alluding to the picking pockets in Lower O’Connell Street?
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— I am illuding to the Pekin packet but I am eluding from Laura Connor’s treat.
— Now, just wash and brush up your memoirias a little bit. So I find, referring to the pater of the present man, an erely de-mented brick thrower, I am wondering to myself in my mind, qua our arc of the covenant, was Toucher, a methodist, whose name, as others say, is not really ‘Thom’, was this salt son of a century from Boaterstown, Shivering William, the sealiest old for-ker