Difference between revisions of "Page 506"

From FinnegansWiki
Jump to navigationJump to search
 
Line 19: Line 19:
 
       <STRIKE>    </STRIKE> Woe! Woe! So that was kow he became the [[foerst]] of our  
 
       <STRIKE>    </STRIKE> Woe! Woe! So that was kow he became the [[foerst]] of our  
 
  treefellers?
 
  treefellers?
       <STRIKE>    </STRIKE> Yesche and, in the absence of any soberiquiet, the fanest  
+
       <STRIKE>    </STRIKE> Yesche and, in the absence of any [[soberiquiet]], the fanest  
 
  of our truefalluses. Bapsbaps Bomslinger!
 
  of our truefalluses. Bapsbaps Bomslinger!
 
       <STRIKE>    </STRIKE> How near do you feel to this capocapo promontory, sir?  
 
       <STRIKE>    </STRIKE> How near do you feel to this capocapo promontory, sir?  

Latest revision as of 21:33, 20 February 2018

TOC

Page 505 Page 507

animals for he had put his own nickelname on every toad, duck
and herring before the climber clomb aloft, doing the midhill of
the park, flattering his bitter hoolft with her conconundrums.
He would let us have the three barrels. Such was a bitte too thikke
for the Muster of the hoose so as he called down on the Grand
Precurser who coiled him a crawler of the dupest dye and
thundered at him to flatch down off that erection and be aslimed
of himself for the bellance of hissch leif.
          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.
          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 con- 
sider 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