Difference between revisions of "Page 95"
From FinnegansWiki
Jump to navigationJump to searchm |
m |
||
| Line 31: | Line 31: | ||
And so they went on, the [[fourbottle men]], the [[analists]], [[unguam|ungu-]] | And so they went on, the [[fourbottle men]], the [[analists]], [[unguam|ungu-]] | ||
[[unguam|am]] and [[nunguam]] and [[lunguam again]], their [[anschluss]] about her | [[unguam|am]] and [[nunguam]] and [[lunguam again]], their [[anschluss]] about her | ||
| − | whosebefore and his whereafters and how she was lost away | + | whosebefore and his [[whereafters]] and how she was lost away |
away in the [[fern]] and how he was founded deap on deep [[in anear]], | away in the [[fern]] and how he was founded deap on deep [[in anear]], | ||
and the rustlings and the twitterings and the raspings and the | and the rustlings and the twitterings and the raspings and the | ||
Revision as of 21:17, 13 August 2013
he caught his paper dispillsation from the poke, old Minace and Minster York? Do I mind? I mind the gush off the mon like Bal- llybock manure works on a tradewinds day. And the O'Moyly gracies and the O'Briny rossies chaffing him bluchface and play- ing him pranks. How do you do, todo, North Mister? Get into my way! Ah dearome forsailoshe! Gone over the bays! When ginabawdy meadabawdy! Yerra, why would he heed that old gasometer with his hooping coppin and his dyinboosycough and all the birds of the southside after her, Minxy Cunningham, their dear divorcee darling, jimmies and jonnies to be her jo? Hold hard. There's three other corners to our isle's cork float. Sure, 'tis well I can telesmell him H2CE3 that would take a township's breath away! Gob and I nose him too well as I do meself, heav- ing up the Kay Wall by the 32 to 11 with his limelooking horse- bags full of sesameseed, the Whiteside Kaffir, and his sayman's effluvium and his scentpainted voice, puffing out his thundering big brown cabbage! Pa! Thawt I'm glad a gull for his pawsdeen fiunn! Goborro, sez he, Lankyshied! Gobugga ye, sez I! O breezes! I sniffed that lad long before anyone. It was when I was in my farfather out at the west and she and myself, the redheaded girl, firstnighting down Sycomore Lane. Fine feelplay we had of it mid the kissabetts frisking in the kool kurkle dusk of the lushiness. My perfume of the pampas, says she (meaning me) putting out her netherlights, and I'd sooner one precious sip at your pure mountain dew than enrich my acquaintance with that big brewer's belch. And so they went on, the fourbottle men, the analists, ungu- am and nunguam and lunguam again, their anschluss about her whosebefore and his whereafters and how she was lost away away in the fern and how he was founded deap on deep in anear, and the rustlings and the twitterings and the raspings and the snappings and the sighings and the paintings and the ukukuings and the (hist!) the springapartings and the (hast!) the bybyscutt- lings and all the scandalmunkers and the pure craigs that used to be (up) that time living and lying and rating and riding round Nunsbelly Square. And all the buds in the bush. And the laugh-
