Complete Works of James Joyce

Home > Nonfiction > Complete Works of James Joyce > Page 142
Complete Works of James Joyce Page 142

by Unknown

douche as him, the totterer, the four-flights-the-charmer, doub-

  ling back, in nowtime, 5 bymby when saltwater he wush him these

  iselands, O alors! to mount miss (the wooeds of Fogloot!) under

  that chemise de and a vartryproof name, Multalusi (would it

  wash?) with a cheek white peaceful as, wen shall say, a single pro-

  fessed claire’s 6 and his washawash tubatubtub and his diagonoser’s

  lampblick, to pure where they where hornest girls, to buy her in

  par jure, il you plait, nuncandtunc and for simper, and other duel

  mavourneens in plurible numbers from Arklow Vikloe to Louth

  super Luck, come messes, come mams, and touch your spottprice

  (for’twas he was the born suborner, man) on behalf of an oldest

  ablished firma of winebakers, Lagrima and Gemiti, later on, his

  craft ebbing, invoked by the unirish title, Grindings of Nash, 7 the

  1 Muckross Abbey with the creepers taken off.

  Joke and Jilt will have their tilt.

  Old Mamalujorum and Rawrogerum.

  Why have these puerile blonds those large flexible ears?

  Pomeroy Roche of Portobello, or the Wreck of the Ragamuffin.

  No wonder Miss Dotsh took to veils and she descended from that

  obloquohy.

  The bookley with the rusin’s hat is Patomkin but I’m blowed if I knowed

  who the slave is doing behind the curtain.

  One and Only, Unic bar None, of Saint Yves by Landsend corn-

  wer, man — ship me silver!, it must have been, faw! a terrible

  mavrue mavone, to synamite up the old Adam-he-used-to, such a

  finalley, and that’s flat as Tut’s fut, for whowghowho? the poour

  girl, a lonely peggy, given the bird, so inseuladed as Crampton’s

  peartree, (she sall eurn bitter bed by thirt sweet of her face !), and

  short wonder so many of the tomthick and tarry members in all

  there subsequious ages of our timocracy tipped to console with her

  at her mirrorable gracewindow’d hut 1 till the ives of Man, the

  O’Kneels and the O’Prayins and the O’Hyens of Lochlaunstown

  and the O’Hollerins of Staneybatter, hollyboys, all, burryripe

  who’ll buy?, 2 in juwelietry and kickychoses and madornaments

  and that’s not the finis of it (would it were!) — but to think of him

  foundling a nelliza the second, 3 also cliptbuss (the best was still

  there if the torso was gone) where he did and when he did, re-

  triever to the last 4 — escapes my forgetness now was it dust-

  covered, nom de Lieu ! on lapse or street ondown, through, for or

  from a foe, by with as on a friend, at the Rectory? Vicarage Road?

  Bishop’s Folly? Papesthorpe?, after picket fences, stonewalls, out

  and ins or oxers — for merry a valsehood whisprit he to manny a

  lilying earling; 5 and to try to analyse that ambo’s pair of brace-

  leans akwart the rollyon trying to amarm all 6 of that miching

  micher’s bearded but insensible virility and its gaulish mous-

  taches, Dammad and Groany, into her limited (tuff, tuff, que tu es

  pitre !) lapse at the same slapse for towelling ends 7 in their dolight-

  ful Sexsex home, Somehow-at-Sea (O little oily head, sloper’s

  brow and prickled ears !) as though he, a notoriety, a foist edition,

  were a wrigular writher neonovene babe! 8 — well, diarmuee and

  1 O hce! O hce!

  2 Six and seven the League.

  3 It’s all round me hat I’ll wear a drooping dido.

  4 Have you ever thought of a hitching your stern and being ourdeaned,

  Mester Bootenfly, here’s me and Myrtle is twinkling to know.

  5 To show they caught preferment.

  6 See the freeman’s cuticatura by Fennella.

  7 Just one big booty’s pot.

  8 Charles de Simples had an infirmierity complexe before he died a natural

  death.

  granyou and Vae Vinctis, that is what lamoor that of gentle

  breast rathe is intaken seems circling toward out yondest (it’s

  life that’s all chokered by that batch of grim rushers) heaven

  help his hindmost and, mark mo, if the so greatly displeaced

  diorems in the Saint Lubbock’s Day number of that most improv-

  ing of roundshows, Spice and Westend Woman (utterly exhausted

  before publication, indiapepper edition shortly), are for our in-

  dices, it agins to pear like it,par my fay,and there is no use for your

  pastripreaching for to cheesse it either or praying fresh fleshblood

  claspers of young catholick throats on Huggin Green 1 to take

  warning by the prispast, why?, by cows . man, in shirt, is how

  he is pi- la gonna Š mobile and þ they wonet do ut; and, an you

  could peep inside the cerebralised saucepan of this eer illwinded

  goodfornobody, you would see in his house of thoughtsam (was

  you, that is, decontaminated enough to look discarnate) what a

  jetsam litterage of convolvuli of times lost or strayed, of lands

  derelict and of tongues laggin too, longa yamsayore, not only that

  but, search lighting, beached, bashed and beaushelled a la Mer

  pharahead into faturity, your own convolvulis pickninnig capman

  would real to jazztfancy the novo takin place of what stale words

  whilom were woven with and fitted fairly featly for, so; and

  equally so, the crame of the whole faustian fustian, whether your

  launer’s lightsome or your soulard’s schwearmood, it is that,

  whenas the swiftshut scareyss of our pupilteachertaut duplex will

  hark back to lark to you symibellically that, though a day be as

  dense as a decade, no mouth has the might to set a mearbound to

  the march of a landsmaul, 2 in half a sylb, helf a solb, holf a salb on-

  ward 3 the beast of boredom, common sense, lurking gyrographi-

  cally down inside his loose Eating S.S. collar is gogoing of

  whisth to you sternly how — Plutonic loveliaks twinnt Platonic

  yearlings — you must, how, in undivided reawlity draw the line

  somewhawre)

  1 Where Buickly of the Glass and Bellows pumped the Rudge engineral.

  2 Matter of Brettaine and brut fierce.

  3 Bussmullah, cried Lord Wolsley, how me Aunty Mag’ll row!

  Uteralterance or

  Coss? Cossist? Your parn! You, you make

  WHY MY AS

  the Interplay of

  what name? (and in truth, as a poor soul is

  LIKEWISE

  Bones in the

  between shift and shift ere the teath he has

  WHIS HIS.

  Womb.

  lived through becomes the life he is to die

  The Vortex.

  into, he or he had albut — he was rickets as to

  Spring of Sprung

  reasons but the balance of his minds was

  Verse. The Ver-

  stables — lost himself or himself some som-

  tex.

  nione sciupiones, soswhitchoverswetch had

  he or he gazet, murphy come, murphy go,

  murphy plant, murphy grow, a maryamyria-

  meliamurphies, in the lazily eye of his lapis,

  Vieus Von DVbLIn, ’twas one of dozedeams

  a darkies ding in dewood) the Turnpike under

  the Great Ulm (with Mearingstone in Fore

  ground). 1 Given now ann linch you take enn

  all. Allow me! And, heaving alljawbreakical

  expressions out of old Sare Isaac’s 2 universal

  of specious aristmystic unsaid, A is
for Anna

  like L is for liv. Aha hahah, Ante Ann you’re

  apt to ape aunty annalive! Dawn gives rise.

  Lo, lo, lives love! Eve takes fall. La, la, laugh

  leaves alass! Aiaiaiai, Antiann, we’re last to

  the lost, Loulou! Tis perfect. Now (lens

  1 Draumcondra’s Dream country where the betterlies blow.

  2 O, Laughing Sally, are we going to be toadhauntered by that

  old Pantifox

  Sir Somebody Something, Burtt, for the rest of our secret stripture?

  Sarga, or the

  your dappled yeye here, mine’s presbyoperian,

  path of outgoing.

  shill and wall) we see the copyngink strayed-

  Docetism and

  line AL (in Fig., the forest) from being con-

  Didicism, Maya-

  tinued, stops ait Lambday:1 Modder ilond

  Thaya. Tamas-

  there too. Allow me anchore! I bring down

  Rajas-Sattvas.

  noth and carry awe. Now, then, take this in!

  One of the most murmurable loose carollaries

  ever Ellis threw his cookingclass. With Olaf

  as centrum and Olaf’s lambtail for his spokes-

  man circumscript a cyclone. Allow ter! Hoop !

  As round as the calf of an egg! O, dear

  me! O, dear me now! Another grand dis-

  cobely! After Makefearsome’s Ocean. You’ve

  actuary entducked one! Quok! Why, you

  haven’t a passer! Fantastic! Early’ clever,

  surely doomed, to Swift’s, alas, the galehus!

  Match of a matchness, like your Bigdud dadder

  in the boudeville song, Gorotsky Gollovar’s

  Troubles, raucking his flavourite turvku in

  the smukking precincts of lydias,2 with Mary

  Owens and Dolly Monks seesidling to edge

  his cropulence and Blake-Roche, Kingston

  and Dockrell auriscenting him from afurz, our

  papacocopotl, 3 Abraham Bradley King? (ting

  ting! ting ting!) By his magmasine fall. Lumps,

  lavas and all.4 Bene! But, thunder and turf, it’s

  not alover yet! One recalls Byzantium. The

  mystery repeats itself todate as our callback

  mother Gaudyanna, that was daughter to a

  tanner, 5 used to sing, as I think, now and then

  consinuously over her possetpot in her quer

  1 Ex jup pep off Carpenger Strate. The kids’ and dolls’ home.

  Makeacake-

  ache.

  2 A vagrant need is a flagrant weed.

  3 Grand for blowing off steam when you walk up in the morning.

  4 At the foot of Bagnabun Banbasday was lost on one

  5 We’re all found of our anmal matter.

  Cell and its Pri-

  homolocous humminbass hesterdie and ist-

  vate Properties.

  herdie forivor. 1 Vanissas Vanistatums! And

  The haves and

  for a night of thoughtsendyures and a day. As

  the havenots: a

  Great Shapesphere puns it. In effect, I re-

  distinction.

  mumble, from the yules gone by, purr lil mur-

  rerof myhind, so she used indeed. When she

  give me the Sundaclouths she hung up for

  Tate and Comyng and snuffed out the ghost

  in the candle at his old game of haunt the

  sleepper. Faithful departed. When I’m dream-

  ing back like that I begins to see we’re only

  all telescopes. Or the comeallyoum saunds.

  Like when I dromed I was in Dairy and was

  wuckened up with thump in thudderdown.

  Rest in peace ! But to return. 2 What a wonder-

  ful memory you have too ! Twonderful

  morrowy! Straorbinaire! Bene! I bring town

  eau and curry nothung up my sleeve. Now,

  springing quickenly from the mudland-Loosh

  from Luccan with Allhim as her Elder tetra-

  turn a somersault. All’s fair on all fours, as

  my instructor unstrict me. Watch ! And you’ll

  have the whole inkle. Allow, allow! Gyre O,

  gyre O, gyrotundo ! Hop lala ! As umpty

  herum as you seat! O, dear me, that was very

  nesse! Very nace indeed! And makes us a

  daintical pair of accomplasses! You, allus for

  the kunst and me for omething with a handel

  to it. Beve! Now, as will pressantly be felt,

  there’s tew tricklesome poinds where our

  twain of doubling bicirculars, mating approxe-

  metely in their suite poi and poi, dunloop

  into eath the ocher. Lucihere ! I fee where you

  The Vegetable

  1 Sewing up the beillybursts in their buckskin shiorts for big Kapitayn

  Killykook and the Jukes of Kelleiney.

 

‹ Prev