Complete Works of James Joyce (197 page)

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