Finnegans Wake: Page 201

Part:1 Episode:7 Page:201

that was writ by one and rede by two and trouved by a poule in
the parco! I can see that, I see you are. How does it tummel?
Listen now. Are you listening? Yes, yes ! Idneed I am ! Tarn your
ore ouse ! Essonne inne !
By earth end the cloudy but I badly went e brandnew bankside,
bedamp and I do, and a plumper at that!
For the putty affair I have is wore out, so it is, sitting,yaping and
waiting for my old Dane hodder dodderer, my life in death companion,
my frugal key of our larder, my much-altered camel's hump, my
jointspoiler, my maymoon's honey, my fool to the last Decemberer,
to wake himself out of his winter's doze and bore me down like he
used to.
Is there irwell a lord of the manor or a knight of the shire at strike,
I wonder, that'd dip me a dace or two in cash for washing and
darning his worshipful socks for him now we're run out of
horsebrose and milk?
Only for my short Brittas bed made's as snug as it smells it's
out I'd lep and off with me to the slobs deua Tolka or the plage au
Clontarf to feale the gay aire of my salt troublin bay and the race
of the saywint up me ambushure.
Onon! Onon! tell me more. Tell me every tiny teign. I want
to know every single ingul. Down to what made the potters fly
into jagsthole. And why were the vesles vet. That homa fever's
winning me wome. If a mahun of the horse but hard me! We'd
be bundukiboi meet askarigal. Well, now comes the
hazelhatchery part. After Clondalkin the Kings's Inns. We'll soon be
there with the freshet. How many aleveens had she in tool? I can't
rightly rede you that. Close only knows. Some say she had three
figures to fill and confined herself to a hundred eleven, wan
bywan bywan, making meanacuminamoyas. Olaph lamm et, all that
pack? We won't have room in the kirkeyaard. She can't remember
half of the cradlenames she smacked on them by the grace of her
boxing bishop's infallible slipper, the cane for Kund and abbles for
Eyolf and ayther nayther for Yakov Yea. A hundred and how?
They did well to rechristien her Pluhurabelle. O loreley! What a
loddon lodes! Heigh ho! But it's quite on the cards she'll shed

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