Page 340

From FinnegansWiki
Jump to navigationJump to search

TOC

Page 339 Page 341

cettera, oukraydoubray). Scutterer of guld, he is retourious on
every roudery! The lyewdsky so so sewn of a fitchid! With his
walshbrushup. And his boney bogey braggs.
     BUTT (after his tongues in his cheeks, with pinkpoker pointing 
out in rutene to impassible abjects beyond the mistomist towards
Lissnaluhy such as the Djublian Alps and the Hoofd Ribeiro as
where he and his trulock may ever make a game). The field of
karhags and that bloasted tree. Forget not the felled! For the
lomondations of Oghrem! Warful doon's bothem. Here furry
glunn. Nye? Their feery pass. Tak! With guerillaman aspear
aspoor to prink the pranks of primkissies. And the buddies be-
hide in the byre. Allahblah!
     TAFF (a blackseer, he stroves to regulect all the straggles for wife 
in the rut of the past through the widnows in effigies keening after the
blank sheets in their faminy to the relix of old decency from over
draught). Oh day of rath! Ah, murther of mines! Eh, selo moy!
Uh, zulu luy! Bernesson Mac Mahahon from Osro bearing nose
easger for sweeth prolettas on his swooth prowl!
     BUTT (back to his peatrol and paump: swee Gee's wee rest: no 
more applehooley: dodewodedook). Bruinoboroff, the hooney-
moonger, and the grizzliest manmichal in Meideveide! Whose
annal livves the hoiest! For he devoused the lelias on the fined
and he conforted samp, tramp and marchint out of the drumbume
of a narse. Guards, serf Finnland, serve we all!
     TAFF (whatwidth the psychophannies at the front and whetwadth 
the psuckofumbers beholden the fair, illcertain, between his bulchri-
chudes and the roshashanaral, where he sees Bishop Ribboncake plus
his pollex prized going forth on his visitations of mirrage or Miss
Horizon, justso all our fannacies daintied her, on the curve of the
camber, unsheathing a showlaced limbaloft to the great consternations).
Divulge! Hyededye, kittyls, and howdeddoh, pan! Poshbott and
pulbuties. See that we soll or let dargman be luna as strait a way
as your ant's folly me line while ye post is goang from Piping
Pubwirth to Haunted Hillborough on his Mujiksy's Zaravence,
the Riss, the Ross, the sur of all Russers,as my farst is near to
hear and my sackend is meet to sedon while my whole's a peer's