Difference between revisions of "Page 480"
From FinnegansWiki
Jump to navigationJump to searchm |
|||
Line 8: | Line 8: | ||
the tan tress awn! Call Wolfhound! Wolf of the sea. Folchu! | the tan tress awn! Call Wolfhound! Wolf of the sea. Folchu! | ||
Folchu! | Folchu! | ||
− | + | — Very good now. That folklore's straight from the ass his | |
mouth. I will crusade on with the parent ship, weather prophet- | mouth. I will crusade on with the parent ship, weather prophet- | ||
ting, far away from those green hills,a station, Ireton tells me, | ting, far away from those green hills,a station, Ireton tells me, | ||
Line 14: | Line 14: | ||
on this levantine ponenter. From Daneland sailed the oxeyed | on this levantine ponenter. From Daneland sailed the oxeyed | ||
man, now mark well what I say. | man, now mark well what I say. | ||
− | + | — Magnus Spadebeard, korsets krosser, welsher perfyddye. | |
A destroyer in our port. Signed to me with his baling scoop. Laid | A destroyer in our port. Signed to me with his baling scoop. Laid | ||
bare his breastpaps to give suck, to suckle me. Ecce Hagios | bare his breastpaps to give suck, to suckle me. Ecce Hagios | ||
Chrisman! | Chrisman! | ||
− | + | — Oh, Jeyses, fluid! says the poisoned well. Futtfishy the | |
First. Hootchcopper's enkel at the navel manuvres! | First. Hootchcopper's enkel at the navel manuvres! | ||
− | + | — Hep! Hello there, Bill of old Bailey! Whu's he? Whu's | |
this lad, why the pups? | this lad, why the pups? | ||
− | + | — Hunkalus Childared Easterheld. It's his lost chance, | |
Emania Ware him well. | Emania Ware him well. | ||
− | + | — Hey! Did you dream you were ating your own tripe, | |
acushla, that you tied yourself up that wrynecky fix? | acushla, that you tied yourself up that wrynecky fix? | ||
− | + | — I see now. We move in the beast circuls. Grimbarb and | |
pancercrucer! You took the words out of my mouth. A child's | pancercrucer! You took the words out of my mouth. A child's | ||
dread for a dragon vicefather. Hillcloud encompass us! You | dread for a dragon vicefather. Hillcloud encompass us! You | ||
Line 32: | Line 32: | ||
learned, volp volp, to howl yourself wolfwise. Dyb! Dyb! Do | learned, volp volp, to howl yourself wolfwise. Dyb! Dyb! Do | ||
your best. | your best. | ||
− | + | — I am dob dob dobbling like old Booth's, courteous. The | |
cubs are after me, it zeebs, the whole totem pack, vuk vuk and | cubs are after me, it zeebs, the whole totem pack, vuk vuk and | ||
vuk vuk to them, for Robinson's shield. | vuk vuk to them, for Robinson's shield. | ||
− | + | — Scents and gouspils! The animal jangs again! Find the | |
fingall harriers! Here howl me wiseacre's hat till I die of the | fingall harriers! Here howl me wiseacre's hat till I die of the | ||
milkman's lupus! | milkman's lupus! | ||
− | + | — What? Wolfgang? Whoah! Talk very slowe! | |
− |
Revision as of 08:06, 21 December 2005
ning two lay payees. Norsker. Her raven flag was out, the slaver. I trow pon good, jordan's scaper, good's barnet and trustyman. Crouch low, you pigeons three! Say, call that girl with the tan tress awn! Call Wolfhound! Wolf of the sea. Folchu! Folchu! — Very good now. That folklore's straight from the ass his mouth. I will crusade on with the parent ship, weather prophet- ting, far away from those green hills,a station, Ireton tells me, bonofide for keeltappers, now to come to the midnight middy on this levantine ponenter. From Daneland sailed the oxeyed man, now mark well what I say. — Magnus Spadebeard, korsets krosser, welsher perfyddye. A destroyer in our port. Signed to me with his baling scoop. Laid bare his breastpaps to give suck, to suckle me. Ecce Hagios Chrisman! — Oh, Jeyses, fluid! says the poisoned well. Futtfishy the First. Hootchcopper's enkel at the navel manuvres! — Hep! Hello there, Bill of old Bailey! Whu's he? Whu's this lad, why the pups? — Hunkalus Childared Easterheld. It's his lost chance, Emania Ware him well. — Hey! Did you dream you were ating your own tripe, acushla, that you tied yourself up that wrynecky fix? — I see now. We move in the beast circuls. Grimbarb and pancercrucer! You took the words out of my mouth. A child's dread for a dragon vicefather. Hillcloud encompass us! You mean you lived as milky at their lyceum, couard, while you learned, volp volp, to howl yourself wolfwise. Dyb! Dyb! Do your best. — I am dob dob dobbling like old Booth's, courteous. The cubs are after me, it zeebs, the whole totem pack, vuk vuk and vuk vuk to them, for Robinson's shield. — Scents and gouspils! The animal jangs again! Find the fingall harriers! Here howl me wiseacre's hat till I die of the milkman's lupus! — What? Wolfgang? Whoah! Talk very slowe!