Complete Works of James Joyce (199 page)

on the batom 1 where Hoddum and Heave, our

monsterbilker, balked his bawd of parodies.

And let you go, Airmienious, and mick your

modest mock Pie out of Humbles up your

end. Where your apexojesus will be a point

of order. With a geing groan grunt and a

croak click cluck. 2 And my faceage kink and

kurkle trying to make keek peep. 3 Are you

right there, Michael, are you right? Do you

think you can hold on by sitting tight? Well,

of course, it’s awful angelous. Still I don’t feel

it’s so dangelous. Ay, I’m right here, Nickel,

and I’ll write. Singing the top line why it

suits me mikey fine. But, yaghags hogwarts

and arrahquinonthiance, it’s the muddest thick

that was ever heard dump since Eggsmather

got smothered in the plap of the pfan. Now,

to compleat anglers, beloved bironthiarn and

hushtokan hishtakatsch, join alfa pea and

pull loose by dotties and, to be more

sparematically logoical, eelpie and paleale by

trunkles. Alow me align while I encloud

especious ! The Nike done it. Like pah,4 I peh.

Innate little bondery. And as plane as a poke

stiff.5 Now, aqua in buccat. I’ll make you to

see figuratleavely the whome of your eternal

1 Parsee ffrench for the upholdsterer would be delightered.

2 I’ll pass out if the screw spliss his strut.

3 Thargam then goeligum? If you sink I can, swimford. Suksumkale!

4 Hasitatense?

5 The impudence of that in girl’s things!

Destiny, In-

geomater. And if you flung her headdress on

flunce of Design

her from under her highlows you’d wheeze

upon.

whyse Salmonson set his seel on a hexen-

Prometheus or

gown.1 Hissss!, Arrah, go on! Fin for fun!

the Promise of

You’ve spat your shower like a son of Sibernia

Provision

but let’s have at it! Subtend to me now! Pisk!

Outer serpumstances beiug ekewilled, we care-

fully, if she pleats, lift by her seam hem and

jabote at the spidsiest of her trickkikant (like

thousands done before since fillies calpered.

Ocone ! Ocone !) the maidsapron of our A.L.P.,

fearfully! till its nether nadir is vortically where

(allow me aright to two cute winkles) its naval’s

napex will have to beandbe. You must proach

near mear for at is dark. Lob. And light

your mech. Jeldy! And this is what you’ll say.2

Waaaaaa. Tch! Sluice! Pla! And their, redneck,

(for addn’t we to gayatsee with Puhl the Pun-

kah’s bell?)mygh and thy, the living spit of

dead waters, 3 fastness firm of Hurdlebury Fenn,

discinct and isoplural in its (your sow to

the duble) sixuous parts, flument, fluvey and

fluteous, midden wedge of the stream’s your

muddy old triagonal delta, fiho miho, plain

for you now, appia lippia pluvaville, (hop the

hula, girls!) the no niggard spot of her safety

vulve, first of all usquiluteral threeingles, (and

why wouldn’t she sit cressloggedlike the lass

that lured a tailor?) the constant of fluxion,

Mahamewetma, pride of the province 4 and

when that tidled boare rutches up from the

Afrantic, allaph quaran’s his bett und bier! 5