O
tell me all about
Anna Livia! I want to hear all about Anna Livia. Well, you know Anna Livia? Yes,
of course, we all know Anna Livia. Tell me all. Tell me now. You'll die when you
hear. Well, you know, when the old cheb went futt and did what you know. Yes, I
know, go on. Wash quit and don't be dabbling. Tuck up your sleeves and loosen
your talktapes. And don't butt me - hike! - when you bend. Or whatever it was
they threed to make out he thried to two in the Fiendish park. He's an awful old
reppe. Look at the shirt of him ! Look at the dirt of it! He has all my water
black on me. And it steeping and stuping since this time last wik. How many goes
is it I wonder I washed it? I know by heart the places he likes to saale,
duddurty devil! Scorching my hand and starving my famine to make his private
linen public. Wallop it well with your battle and clean it. My wrists are wrusty
rubbing the mouldaw stains. And the dneepers of wet and the gangres of sin in
it! What was it he did a tail at all on Animal Sendai? And how long was he under
loch and neagh? It was put in the newses what he did, nicies and priers, the
King fierceas Humphrey, with illysus distilling, exploits and all. But toms will
till. I know he well. Temp untamed will hist for no man. As you spring so shall
you neap. O, the roughty old rappe! Minxing marrage and making loof. Reeve
Gootch was right and Reeve Drughad was sinistrous! And the cut of him! And the
strut of him! How he used to hold his head as high as a howeth, the famous eld
duke alien, with a hump of grandeur on him like a walking wiesel rat. And his
derry's own drawl and his corksown blather and his doubling stutter and his
gullaway swank. Ask Lictor Hackett or Lector Reade of Garda Growley or the Boy
with the Billyclub. How elster is he a called at all? Qu'appelle? Huges Caput
Earlyfouler. Or where was he born or how was he found? Urgothland, Tvistown on
the Kattekat? New Hunshire, Concord on the Merrimake? Who blocksmitt her saft
anvil or yelled lep to her pail? Was her banns never loosened in Adam and Eve's
or were him and her but captain spliced? For mine ether duck I thee drake. And
by my wildgaze I thee gander. Flowey and Mount on the brink of time makes wishes
and fears for a happy isthmass. She can show all her lines, with love, license
to play. And if they don't remarry that hook and eye may ! O, passmore that and
oxus another! Don Dom Dombdomb and his wee follyo! Was his help inshored in the
Stork and Pelican against bungelars, flu and third risk parties? I heard he dug
good tin with his doll, delvan first and duvlin after, when he raped her home,
Sabrine asthore, in a parakeet's cage, by dredgerous lands and devious delts,
playing catched and mythed with the gleam of her shadda, (if a flic had been
there to pop up and pepper him!) past auld min's manse and Maisons Allfou and
the rest of incurables and the last of immurables, the quaggy waag for
stumbling. Who sold you that jackalantern's tale? Pemmican's pasty pie! Not a
grasshoop to ring her, not an antsgrain of ore. In a gabbard he barqued it, the
boat of life, from the harbourless Ivernikan Okean, till he spied the loom of
his landfall and he loosed two croakers from under his tilt, the gran Phenician
rover. By the smell of her kelp they made the pigeonhouse. Like fun they did!
But where was Himself, the timoneer? That marchantman he suivied their scutties
right over the wash, his cameleer's burnous breezing up on him, till with his
runagate bowmpriss he roade and borst her bar. Pilcomayo! Suchcaughtawan! And
the whale's away with the grayling! Tune your pipes and fall ahumming, you born
ijypt, and you're nothing short of one! Well, ptellomey soon and curb your
escumo. When they saw him shoot swift up her sheba sheath, like any gay lord
salomon, her bulls they were ruhring, surfed with spree. Boyarka buah! Boyana
bueh~He erned his lille Bunbath hard, our staly bred, the trader. He did. Look
at here. In this wet of his prow. Don't you know he was kaldt a bairn of the
brine, Wasserbourne the waterbaby? Havemmarea, so he was! H.C.E. has a codfisck
ee. Shyr she's nearly as badher as him herself. Who? Anna Livia? Ay, Anna Livia.
Do you know she was calling bakvandets sals from all around, nyumba noo, chamba
choo, to go in till him, her erring cheef, and tickle the pontiff aisy-oisy? She
was? Gota pot! Yssel that the limmat? As El Negro winced when he wonced in La
Plate. O, tell me all I want to hear, how loft she was lift a laddery dextro ! A
coneywink after the bunting fell. Letting on she didn't care, sina feza, me
absantee, him man in passession, the proxenete! Proxenete and phwhat is phthat?
Emme for your reussischer Honddu jarkon! Tell us in franca langua. And call a
spate a spate. Did they never sharee you ebro at skol, you antiabecedarian? It's
just the same as if I was to go par examplum now in conservancy's cause out of
telekinesis and proxenete you. For coxyt sake and is that what she is? Botlettle
I thought she'd act that loa. Didn't you spot her in her windaug, wubbling up on
an osiery chair, with a meusic before her all cunniform letters, pretending to
ribble a reedy derg on a fiddle she bogans without a band on? Sure she can't
fiddan a dee, with bow or abandon! Sure, she can't! Tista suck. Well, I never
now heard the like of that! Tell me moher. Tell me moatst. Well, old Humber was
as glommen as grampus, with the tares at his thor and the buboes for ages and
neither bowman nor shot abroad and bales allbrant on the crests of rockies and
nera lamp in kitchen or church and giant's holes in Grafton's causeway and
deathcap mushrooms round Funglus grave and the great tribune's barrow all
darnels occumule, sittang sambre on his sett, drammen and drommen, usking queasy
quizzers of his ruful continence, his childlinen scarf to encourage his
obsequies where he'd check their debths in that mormon's thames, be questing and
handsetl, hop, step and a deepend, with his berths in their toiling moil, his
swallower open from swolf to fore and the snipes of the gutter pecking his
crocs, hungerstriking all alone and holding doomsdag over hunselv, dreeing his
weird, with his dander up, and his fringe combed over his eygs and droming on
loft till the sight of the sternes, after zwarthy kowse and weedy broeks and the
tits of buddy and the loits of pest and to peer was Parish worth thette mess.
You'd think all was dodo belonging to him how he durmed adranse in durance vaal.
He had been belching for severn years. And there she was, Anna Livia, she darent
catch a winkle of sleep, purling around like a chit of a child, Wendawanda, a
fingerthick, in a Lapsummer skirt and damazon cheeks, for to ishim bonzour to
her dear dubber Dan. With neuphraties and sault from his maggias. And an odd
time she'd cook him up blooms of fisk and lay to his heartsfoot her meddery
eygs, yayis, and staynish beacons on toasc and a cupenhave so weeshywashy of
Greenland's tay or a dzoupgan of Kaffue mokau an sable or Sikiang sukry or his
ale of ferns in trueart pewter and a shinkobread (hamjambo, bana?) for to plaise
that man hog stay his stomicker till her pyrraknees shrunk to nutmeg graters
while her togglejoints shuck with goyt and as rash as she'd russ with her
peakload of vivers up on her sieve (metauwero rage it swales and rieses) my
hardey Hek he'd kast them frome him, with a stour of scorn, as much as to say
you sow and you sozh, and if he didn't peg the platteau on her tawe, believe you
me, she was safe enough. And then she'd esk to vistule a hymn, The Heart Bowed
Down or The Rakes of Mallow or Chelli Michele's La Calumnia Š un Vermicelli or a
balfy bit ov old Jo Robidson. Sucho fuffing a fifeing 'twould cut you in two!
She'd bate the hen that crowed on the turrace of Babbel. What harm if she knew
how to cockle her mouth ! And not a mag out of Hum no more than out of the
mangle weight. Is that a faith? That's the fact. Then riding the ricka and roya
romanche, Annona, gebroren aroostokrat Nivia, dochter of Sense and Art, with
Sparks' pirryphlickathims funkling her fan, anner frostivying tresses dasht with
virevlies,- while the prom beauties sreeked nith their bearers' skins!-in a
period gown of changeable jade that would robe the wood of two cardinals' chairs
and crush poor Cullen and smother MacCabe. O blazerskate! Theirs porpor patches!
And brahming to him down the feedchute, with her femtyfyx kinds of fondling
endings, the poother rambling off her nose: Vuggybarney, Wickerymandy! Hello,
ducky, please don't die! Do you know what she started cheeping after, with a
choicey voicey like waterglucks or Madame Delba to Romeoreszk? You'll never
guess. Tell me. Tell me. Phoebe, dearest, tell, O tell me and I loved you better
nor you knew. And letting on hoon var daft about the warbly sangs from over
holmen: High hellskirt saw ladies hensmoker lilyhung pigger: and soay and soan
and so firth and so forth in a tone sonora and Oom Bothar below like Bheri-Bheri
in his sandy cloak, so umvolosy, as deaf as a yawn, the stult! Go away! Poor
deef old deary! Yare only teasing! Anna Liv? As chalk is my judge! And didn't
she up in sorgues and go and trot doon and stand in her douro, puffing her old
dudheen, and every shirvant siligirl or wensum farmerette walking the pilend
roads, Sawy, Fundally, Daery or Maery, Milucre, Awny or Graw, usedn't she make
her a simp or sign to slip inside by the sullyport? You don't say, the
sillypost? Bedouix but I do! Calling them in, one by one (To Blockbeddum here!
Here the Shoebenacaddie!) and legging a jig or so on the sihl to show them how
to shake their benders and the dainty how to bring to mind the gladdest garments
out of sight and all the way of a maid with a man and making a sort of a
cackling noise like two and a penny or half a crown and holding up a silliver
shiner. Lordy, lordy, did she so? Well, of all the ones ever I heard! Throwing
all the neiss little whores in the world at him! To inny captured wench you wish
of no matter what sex of pleissful ways two adda tammar a lizzy a lossie to hug
and hab haven in Humpy's apron!
And what was the wyerye rima she made! Odet! Odet! Tell me the trent of it while
I'm lathering hail out of Denis Florence MacCarthy's combies. Rise it, flut ye,
pian piena! I'm dying down off my iodine feet until I lerryn Anna Livia's
cushingloo, 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 more and merrier,
twills and trills, sparefours and spoilfives, nordsihkes and sudsevers and ayes
and neins to a litter. Grandfarthring nap and Messamisery and the knave of all
knaves and the joker. Heehaw! She must have been a gadabount in her day, so she
must, more than most. Shoal she was, gidgad. She had a flewmen of her owen. Then
a toss nare scared that lass, so aimai moe, that's agapo! Tell me, tell me, how
cam she camlin through all her fellows, the neckar she was, the diveline?
Casting her perils before our swains from Fonte-in-Monte to Tidingtown and from
Tidingtown tilhavet. Linking one and knocking the next, tapting a flank and
tipting a jutty and palling in and pietaring out and clyding by on her eastway.
Waiwhou was the first thurever burst? Someone he was, whuebra they were, in a
tactic attack or in single combat. Tinker, tilar, souldrer, salor, Pieman Peace
or Polistaman. That's the thing I'm elwys on edge to esk. Push up and push
vardar and come to uphill headquarters! Was it waterlows year, after Grattan or
Flood, or when maids were in Arc or when three stood hosting? Fidaris will find
where the Doubt arises like Nieman from Nirgends found the Nihil. Worry you
sighin foh, Albern, O Anser? Untie the gemman's fistiknots, Qvic and Nuancee!
She can't put her hand on him for the moment. Tez thelon langlo, walking weary!
Such a loon waybashwards to row! She sid herself she hardly knows whuon the
annals her graveller was, a dynast of Leinster, a wolf of the sea, or what he
did or how blyth she played or how, when, why, where and who offon he jumpnad
her and how it was gave her away. She was just a young thin pale soft shy slim
slip of a thing then, sauntering, by silvamoonlake and he was a heavy trudging
lurching lieabroad of a Curraghman, making his hay for whose sun to shine on, as
tough as the oaktrees (peats be with them!) used to rustle that time down by the
dykes of killing Kildare, for forstfellfoss with a plash across her. She thought
she's sankh neathe the ground with nymphant shame when he gave her the tigris
eye ! O happy fault ! Me wish it was he ! You're wrong there, corribly wrong!
Tisn't only tonight you're anacheronistic! It was ages behind that when nullahs
were nowhere, in county Wickenlow, garden of Erin, before she ever dreamt she'd
lave Kilbride and go foaming under Horsepass bridge, with the great
southerwestern windstorming her traces and the midland's grainwaster asarch for
her track, to wend her ways byandby, robecca or worse, to spin and to grind, to
swab and to thrash, for all her golden lifey in the barleyfields and pennylotts
of Humphrey's fordofhurdlestown and lie with a landleaper, wellingtonorseher.
Alesse, the lagos of girly days! For the dove of the dunas! Wasut? Izod? Are you
sarthin suir? Not where the Finn fits into the Mourne, not where the Nore takes
lieve of Blm, not where the Braye divarts the Farer, not where the Moy changez
her minds twixt Cullin and Conn tween Cunn and Collin? Or where Neptune sculled
and Tritonville rowed and leandros three bumped heroines two? Neya, narev, nen,
nonni, nos ! Then whereabouts in Ow and Ovoca? Was it yst with wyst or Lucan
Yokan or where the hand of man has never set foot? Dell me where, the fairy
ferse time! I will if you listen. You know the dinkel dale of Luggelaw? Well,
there once dwelt a local heremite, Michael Arklow was his riverend name, (with
many a sigh I aspersed his lavabibs!) and one venersderg in junojuly, oso sweet
and so cool and so limber she looked, Nance the Nixie, Nanon L'Escaut, in the
silence, of the sycomores, all listening, the kindling curves you simply can't
stop feeling, he plunged both of his newly anointed hands, the core of his
cushlas, in her singimari saffron strumans of hair, parting them and soothing
her and mingling it, that was deepdark and ample like this red bog at sundown.
By that Vale Vowclose's lucydlac, the reignbeau's heavenarches arronged orranged
her. Afrothdizzying galbs, her enamelled eyes indergoading him on to the vierge
violetian. Wish a wish! Why a why? Mavro ! Letty Lerck's lafing light throw
those laurals now on her daphdaph teasesong petrock. Maass! But the majik wavus
has elfun anon meshes. And Simba the Slayer of his Oga is slewd. He cuddle not
help himself, thurso that hot on him, he had to forget the monk in the man so,
rubbing her up and smoothing her down, he baised his lippes in smiling mood,
kiss akiss after kisokushk (as he warned her niver to, niver to, nevar) on
Anna-na-Poghue's of the freckled forehead. While you'd parse secheressa she
hielt her souff'. But she ruz two feet hire in her aisne aestumation. And
steppes on stilts ever since. That was kissuahealing with bantur for balm! O,
wasn't he the bold priest? And wasn't she the naughty Livvy? Nautic Naama's now
her navn. Two lads in scoutsch breeches went through her before that, Barefoot
Burn and Wallowme Wade, Lugnaquillia's noblesse pickts, before she had a hint of
a hair at her fanny to hide or a bossom to tempt a birch canoedler not to
mention a bulgic porterhouse barge. And ere that again, leada, laida, all
unraidy, too faint to buoy the fairiest rider, too frail to flirt with a
cygnet's plume, she was licked by a hound, Chirripa-Chirruta, while poing her
pee, pure and simple, on the spur of the hill in old Kippure, in birdsong and
shearingtime, but first of all, worst of all, the wiggly livvly, she sideslipped
out by a gap in the Devil's glen while Sally her nurse was sound asleep in a
sloot and, feefee fiefie, fell over a spillway before she found her stride and
lay and wriggled in all the stagnant black pools of rainy under a fallow coo and
she laughed innocefree with her limbs aloft and a whole drove of maiden
hawthorns blushing and looking askance upon her.
Drop me the sound of the findhorn's name, Mtu or Mti, sombogger was wisness. And
drip me why in the flenders was she frickled. And trickle me through was she
marcellewaved or was it weirdly a wig she wore. And whitside did they droop
their glows in their florry, aback to wist or affront to sea? In fear to hear
the dear so near or longing loth and loathing longing? Are you in the swim or
are you out? O go in, go on, go an! I mean about what you know. I know right
well what you mean. Rother! You'd like the coifs and guimpes, snouty, and me to
do the greasy jub on old Veronica's wipers. What am I rancing now and I'll thank
you? Is it a pinny or is it a surplice? Arran, where's your nose? And where's
the starch? That's not the vesdre benediction smell. I can tell from here by
their eau de Colo and the scent of her oder they're Mrs Magrath's. And you ought
to have aird them. They've moist come off her. Creases in silk they are, not
crampton lawn. Baptiste me, father, for she has sinned! Through her catchment
ring she freed them easy, with her hips' hurrahs for her knees'dontelleries. The
only parr with frills in old the plain. So they are, I declare! Welland well! If
tomorrow keeps fine who'll come tripping to sightsee? How'll? Ask me next what I
haven't got! The Belvedarean exhibitioners. In their cruisery caps and oarsclub
colours. What hoo, they band! And what hoa, they buck! And here is her nubilee
letters too. Ellis on quay in scarlet thread. Linked for the world on a
flushcaloured field. Annan exe after to show they're not Laura Keown's. O, may
the diabolo twisk your seifety pin! You child of Mammon, Kinsella's Lilith! Now
who has been tearing the leg of her drawars on her? Which leg is it? The one
with the bells on it. Rinse them out and aston along with you! Where did I stop?
Never stop! Continuarration! You're not there yet. I amstel waiting. Garonne,
garonne!
Well, after it was put in the Mericy Cordial Mendicants'
Sitterdag-Zindeh-Munaday Wakeschrift (for once they sullied their white
kidloves, chewing cuds after their dinners of cheeckin and beggin, with their
show us it here and their mind out of that and their when you're quite finished
with the reading matarial), even the snee that snowdon his hoaring hair had a
skunner against him. Thaw, thaw, sava, savuto! Score Her Chuff Exsquire!
Everywhere erriff you went and every bung you arver dropped into, in cit or
suburb or in addled areas, the Rose and Bottle or Phoenix Tavern or Power's Inn
or Jude's Hotel or wherever you scoured the countryside from Nannywater to
Vartryville or from Porta Lateen to the lootin quarter you found his ikom
etsched tipside down or the cornerboys cammocking his guy and Morris the Man,
with the role of a royss in his turgos the turrible, (Evropeahahn cheic house,
unskimmed sooit and yahoort, hamman now cheekmee, Ahdahm this way make, Fatima,
half tum!) reeling and railing round the local as the peihos piped und ubanjees
twanged, with oddfellow's triple tiara busby rotundarinking round his scalp.
Like Pate-by-the-Neva or Pete-over-Meer. This is the Hausman all paven and
stoned, that cribbed the Cabin that never was owned that cocked his leg and
hennad his Egg. And the mauldrin rabble around him in areopage, fracassing a
great bingkan cagnan with their timpan crowders. Mind your Grimmfather! Think of
your Ma! Hing the Hong is his jove's hangnomen ! Lilt a bolero, bulling a law !
She swore on croststyx nyne wyndabouts she's be level with all the snags of them
yet. Par the Vulnerable Virgin's Mary del Dame! So she said to herself she'd
frame a plan to fake a shine, the mischiefmaker, the like of it you niever
heard. What plan? Tell me quick and dongu so crould! What the meurther did she
mague? Well, she bergened a zakbag, a shammy mailsack, with the lend of a loan
of the light of his lampion, off one of her swapsons, Shaun the Post, and then
she went and consulted her chapboucqs, old Mot Moore, Casey's Euclid and the
Fashion Display and made herself tidal to join in the mascarete. O gig goggle of
gigguels. I can't tell you how! It's too screaming to rizo, rabbit it all!
Minneha, minnehi minaaehe, minneho! O but you must, you must really! Make my
hear it gurgle gurgle, like the farest gargle gargle in the dusky dirgle dargle!
By the holy well of Mulhuddart I swear I'd pledge my chanza getting to heaven
through Tirry and Killy's mount of impiety to hear it all, aviary word! O, leave
me my faculties, woman, a while! If you don't like my story get out of the punt.
Well, have it your own way, so. Here, sit down and do as you're bid. Take my
stroke and bend to your bow. Forward in and pull your overthepoise! Lisp it
slaney and crisp it quiet. Deel me longsome. Tongue your time now. Breathe thet
deep. Thouat's the fairway. Hurry slow and scheldt you go. Lynd us your blessed
ashes here till I scrub the canon's underpants. Flow now. Ower more. And
pooleypooley.
First she let her hair fal and down it flussed to her feet its teviots winding
coils. Then, mothernaked, she sampood herself with galawater and fraguant
pistania mud, wupper and lauar, from crown to sole. Next she greesed the groove
of her keel, warthes and wears and mole and itcher, with antifouling
butterscatch and turfentide and serpenthyme and with leafmould she ushered round
prunella isles and eslats dun, quincecunct, allover her little mary. Peeld gold
of waxwork her jellybelly and her grains of incense anguille bronze. And after
that she wove a garland for her hair. She pleated it. She plaited it. Of
meadowgrass and riverflags, the bulrush and waterweed, and of fallen griefs of
weeping willow. Then she made her bracelets and her anklets and her armlets and
a jetty amulet for necklace of clicking cobbles and pattering pebbles and
rumbledown rubble, richmond and rehr, of Irish rhunerhinerstones and shellmarble
bangles. That done, a dawk of smut to her airy ey, Annushka Lutetiavitch
Pufflovah, and the lellipos cream to her lippeleens and the pick of the paintbox
for her pommettes, from strawbirry reds to extra violates, and she sendred her
boudeloire maids to His Affluence, Ciliegia Grande and Kirschie Real, the two
chirsines, with respecks from his missus, seepy and sewery, and a request might
she passe of him for a minnikin. A call to pay and light a taper, in
Brie-on-Arrosa, back in a sprizzling. The cock striking mine, the stalls bridely
sign, there's Zambosy waiting for Me! She said she wouldn't be half her length
away. Then, then, as soon as the lump his back was turned, with her mealiebag
slang over her shulder, Anna Livia, oysterface, forth of her bassein came.
Describe her! Hustle along, why can't you? Spitz on the iern while it's hot. I
wouldn't miss her for irthing on nerthe. Not for the lucre of lomba strait.
Oceans of Gaud, I mosel hear that! Ogowe presta! Leste, before Julia sees her!
Ishekarry and washemeskad, the carishy caratimaney? Whole lady fair?
Duodecimoroon? Bon a ventura? Malagassy? What had she on, the liddel oud oddity?
How much did she scallop, harness and weights? Here she is, Amnisty Ann! Call
her calamity electrifies man.
No electress at all but old Moppa Necessity, angin mother of injons. I'll tell
you a test. But you must sit still. Will you hold your peace and listen well to
what I am going to say now? It might have been ten or twenty to one of the night
of Allclose or the nexth of April when the flip of her hoogly igloo flappered
and out toetippit a bushman woman, the dearest little moma ever you saw, nodding
around her, all smiles, with ems of embarras and aues to awe, between two ages,
a judyqueen, not up to your elb. Quick, look at her cute and saise her quirk for
the bicker she lives the slicker she grows. Save us and tagus ! No more? Werra
where in ourthe did you ever pick a Lambay chop as big as a battering ram? Ay,
you're right. I'm epte to forgetting, Like Liviam Liddle did Loveme Long. The
linth of my hough, I say ! She wore a ploughboy's nailstudded clogs, a pair of
ploughfields in themselves: a sugarloaf hat with a gaudyquiviry peak and a band
of gorse for an arnoment and a hundred streamers dancing off it and a guildered
pin to pierce it: owlglassy bicycles boggled her eyes: and a fishnetzeveil for
the sun not to spoil the wrinklings of her hydeaspects: potatorings boucled the
loose laubes of her laudsnarers: her nude cuba stockings were salmospotspeckled:
she sported a galligo shimmy of hazevaipar tinto that never was fast till it ran
in the washing: stout stays, the rivals, lined her length: her bloodorange
bockknickers, a two in one garment, showed natural nigger boggers,
fancyfastened, free to undo: her blackstripe tan joseph was sequansewn and
teddybearlined, with wavy rushgreen epaulettes and a leadown here and there of
royal swansruff: a brace of gaspers stuck in her hayrope garters: her civvy
codroy coat with alpheubett buttons was boundaried round with a twobar tunnel
belt: a fourpenny bit in each pocketside weighed her safe from the blowaway
windrush; she had a clothespeg tight astride on her joki's nose and she kep on
grinding a sommething quaint in her fiumy mouth and the rrreke of the fluve of
the tail of the gawan of her snuffdrab siouler's skirt trailed ffiffty odd Irish
miles behind her lungarhodes.
Hellsbells, I'm sorry I missed her! Sweet gumptyum and nobody fainted ! But in
whelk of her mouths? Was her naze alight? Everyone that saw her said the dowce
little delia looked a bit queer. Lotsy trotsy, mind the poddle! Missus, be good
and don't fol in the say! Fenny poor hex she must have charred. Kickhams a
frumpier ever you saw! Making mush mullet's eyes at her boys dobelon. And they
crowned her their chariton queen, all the maids. Of the may? You don't say! Well
for her she couldn't see herself. I recknitz wharfore the darling murrayed her
mirror. She did? Mersey me! There was a koros of drouthdropping sur facemen,
boomslanging and plugchewing, fruiteyeing and flowerfeeding, in contemplation of
the fluctuation and the undification of her filimentation, lolling and leasing
on North Lazers' Waal all eelfare week by the Jukar Yoick's and as soon as they
saw her meander by that marritime way in her grasswinter's weeds and twigged who
was under her archdeaconess bonnet, Avondale's fish and Clarence's poison,
sedges an to aneber, Wit-uponCrutches to Master Bates: Between our two
southsates and the granite they're warming, or her face has been lifted or Alp
has doped!
But what was the game in her mixed baggyrhatty? Just the tembo in her tumbo or
pilipili from her pepperpot? Saas and taas and specis bizaas. And where in
thunder did she plunder? Fore the battle or efter the ball? I want to get it
frisk from the soorce. I aubette my bearb it's worth while poaching on! Shake it
up, do, do! That's a good old son of a ditch! I promise I'll make it worth your
while. And I don't mean maybe. Nor yet with a goodfor. Spey me pruth and I'll
tale you true.
Well, arundgirond in a waveney lyne aringarouma she pattered and swung and
sidled, dribbling her boulder through narrowa mosses, the diliskydrear on our
drier side and the vilde vetchvine agin us, curara here, careero there, not
knowing which medway or weser to strike it, edereider, making chattahoochee all
to her ain chichiu, like Santa Claus at the cree of the pale and puny, nistling
to hear for their tiny hearties, her arms encircling Isolabella, then running
with reconciled Romas and Reims, on like a lech to be off like a dart, then
bathing Dirty Hans' spatters with spittle, with a Christmas box apiece for aisch
and iveryone of her childer, the birthday gifts they dreamt they gabe her, the
spoiled she fleetly laid at our door! On the matt, by the pourch and inunder the
cellar. The rivulets ran aflod to see, the glashaboys, the pollynooties. Out of
the paunschaup on to the pyre. And they all about her, juvenile leads and
ingenuinas, from the slime of their slums and artesaned wellings, rickets and
riots, like the Smyly boys at their vicereine's levee. Vivi vienne, little
Annchen! Vielo Anna, high life! Sing us a sula, O, susuria! Ausone sidulcis!
Hasn't she tambre! Chipping her and raising a bit of a chir or a jary every dive
she'd neb in her culdee sacco of wabbash she raabed and reach out her maundy
meerschaundize, poor souvenir as per ricorder and all for sore aringarung,
stinkers and heelers, laggards and primelads, her furzeborn sons and
dribblederry daughters, a thousand and one of them, and wickerpotluck for each
of them. For evil and ever. And kiks the buch. A tinker's bann and a barrow to
boil his billy for Gipsy Lee; a cartridge of cockaleekie soup for Chummy the
Guardsman; for sulky Pender's acid nephew deltod drops, curiously strong; a
cough and a rattle and wildrose cheeks for poor Piccolina Petite MacFarlane; a
jigsaw puzzle of needles and pins and blankets and shins between them for
Isabel, Jezebel and Llewelyn Mmarriage; a brazen nose and pigiron mittens for
Johnny Walker Beg; a papar flag of the saints and stripes for Kevineen O'Dea; a
puffpuff for Pudge Craig and a nightmarching hare for Techertim Tombigby;
waterleg and gumboots each for Bully Hayes and Hurricane Hartigan; a prodigal
heart and fatted calves for Buck Jones, the pride of Clonliffe; a loaf of bread
and a father's early aim for Val from Skibereen; a jauntingcar for Larry Doolin,
the Ballyclee jackeen; a seasick trip on a government ship for Teague
O'Flanagan; a louse and trap for Jerry Coyle; slushmincepies for Andy Mackenzie;
a hairclip and clackdish for Penceless Peter; that twelve sounds look for G. V.
Brooke; a drowned doll, to face downwards for modest Sister Anne Mortimer; altar
falls for Blanchisse's bed; Wildairs' breechettes for Magpeg Woppington; to Sue
Dot a big eye; to Sam Dash a false step; snakes in clover, picked and scotched,
and a vaticanned viper catcher's visa for Patsy Presbys; a reiz every morning
for Standfast Dick and a drop every minute for Stumblestone Davy; scruboak beads
for beatified Biddy; two appletweed stools for Eva Mobbely; for Saara Philpot a
jordan vale tearorne; a pretty box of Pettyfib's Powder for Eileen Aruna to
whiten her teeth and outflash Helen Arhone; a whippingtop for Eddy Lawless; for
Kitty Coleraine of Butterman's Lane a penny wise for her foolish pitcher; a
putty shovel for Terry the Puckaun; an apotamus mask for Promoter Dunne; a
niester egg with a twicedated shell and a dynamight right for Pavl the Curate; a
collera morbous for Mann in the Cloack; a starr and girton for Draper and Deane;
for Will-of-the-Wisp and Barny-the-Bark two mangolds noble to sweeden their
bitters; for Oliver Bound a way in his frey; for Seumas, thought little, a crown
he feels big; a tibertine's pile with a Congoswood cross on the back for Sunny
Twimjim; a praises be and spare me days for Brian-the Bravo; penteplenty of pity
with lubilashings of lust for Olona Lena Magdalena; for Camilla, Dromilla,
Ludmilla, Mamilla, a bucket, a packet, a book and a pillow; for Nancy Shannon a
Tuami brooch; for Dora Riparia Hopeandwater a cooling douche and a warmingpan; a
pair of Blarney braggs for Wally Meagher; a hairpin slatepencil for Elsie Oram
to scratch her toby, doing her best with her volgar fractions; an old age
pension for Betty Bellezza; a bag of the blues for Funny Fitz; a Missa pro Messa
for Taff de Taff; Jill, the spoon of a girl, for Jack, the broth of a boy; a
Rogerson Crusoe's Friday fast for Caducus Angelus Rubiconstein; three hundred
and sixtysix poplin tyne for revery warp in the weaver's woof for Victor
Hugonot; a stiff steaded rake and good varians muck for Kate the Cleaner; a hole
in the ballad for Hosty; two dozen of cradles for J.F.X.P. Coppinger; tenpounten
on the pop for the daulphins born with five spoiled squibs for Infanta; a letter
to last a lifetime for Maggi beyond by the ashpit; the heftiest frozenmeat woman
from Lusk to Livienbad for Felim the Ferry; spas and speranza and symposium's
syrup for decayed and blind and gouty Gough; a change of naves and joys of ills
for Armoricus Tristram Amoor Saint Lawrence; a guillotine shirt for Reuben
Redbreast and hempen suspendeats for Brennan on the Moor; an oakanknee for
Conditor Sawyer and musquodoboits for Great Tropical Scott; a C3 peduncle for
Karmalite Kane; a sunless map of the month, including the sword and stamps, for
Shemus O'Shaun the Post; a jackal with hide for Browne but Nolan; a stonecold
shoulder for Donn Joe Vance; all lock and no stable for Honorbright
Merreytrickx; a big drum for Billy Dunboyne; a guilty goldeny bellows, below me
blow me,for Ida Ida and a hushaby rocker,Elletrouvetout,for Who-issilvier -
Where-is-he?; whatever you like to swilly to swash, Yuinness or Yennessy, Laagen
or Niger, for Festus King and Roaring Peter and Frisky Shorty and Treacle Tom
and O. B. Behan and Sully the Thug and Master Magrath and Peter Cloran and
O'Delawarr Rossa and Nerone MacPacem and whoever you chance to meet knocking
around; and a pig's bladder balloon for Selina Susquehanna Stakelum. But what
did she give to Pruda Ward and Katty Kanel and Peggy Quilty and Briery Brosna
and Teasy Kieran and Ena Lappin and Muriel Maassy and Zusan Camac and Melissa
Bradogue and Flora Ferns and Fauna Fox-Goodman and Grettna Greaney and Penelope
Inglesante and Lezba Licking like Leytha Liane and Roxana Rohan with Simpatica
Sohan and Una Bina Laterza and Trina La Mesme and Philomena O'Farrell and Irmak
Elly and Josephine Foyle and Snakeshead Lily and Fountainoy Laura and Marie
Xavier Agnes Daisy Frances de Sales Macleay? She gave them ilcka madre's
daughter a moonflower and a bloodvein: but the grapes that ripe before reason to
them that devide the vinedress. So on Izzy, her shamemaid, love shone befond her
tears as from Shem, her penmight, life past befoul his prime.
My colonial, wardha bagful! A bakereen's dusind with tithe tillies to boot.
That's what you may call a tale of a tub ! And Hibernonian market! All that and
more under one crinoline envelope if you dare to break the porkbarrel seal. No
wonder they'd run from her pison plague. Throw us your hudson soap for the
honour of Clane! The wee taste the water left. I'll raft it back, first thing in
the marne. Merced mulde! Ay, and don't forget the reckitts I lohaned you. You've
all the swirls your side of the current. Well, am I to blame for that if I have?
Who said you're to blame for that if you have? You're a bit on the sharp side.
I'm on the wide. Only snuffers' cornets drifts my way that the cracka dvine
chucks out of his cassock, with her estheryear's marsh narcissus to make him
recant his vanitty fair. Foul strips of his chinook's bible I do be reading,
dodwell disgustered but chickled with chuckles at the tittles is drawn on the
tattlepage. Senior ga dito: Faciasi Omo! E omo fu fo. Ho! Ho! Senior ga dito:
Faciasi Hidamo! Hidamo se ga facess. Ha! Ha! And Die Windermere Dichter and
Lefanu (Sheridan's) old House by the Coachyard and Mill (J.) On Woman with Ditto
on the Floss. Ja, a swamp for Altmuehler and a stone for his flossies ! I know
how racy they move his wheel. My hands are blawcauld between isker and suda like
that piece of pattern chayney there, lying below. Or where is it? Lying beside
the sedge I saw it. Hoangho, my sorrow, I've lost it! Aimihi! With that turbary
water who could see? So near and yet so far! But O, gihon! I lovat a gabber. I
could listen to maure and moravar again. Regn onder river. Flies do your float.
Thick is the life for mere.
Well, you know or don't you kennet or haven't I told you every telling has a
taling and that's the he and the she of it. Look, look, the dusk is growing! My
branches lofty are taking root. And my cold cher's gone ashley. Fieluhr? Filou!
What age is at? It saon is late. 'Tis endless now senne eye or erewone last saw
Waterhouse's clogh. They took it asunder, I hurd thum sigh. When will they
reassemble it? O, my back, my back, my bach! I'd want to go to Aches-les-Pains.
Pingpong! There's the Belle for Sexaloitez! And Concepta de Send-us-pray! Pang!
Wring out the clothes! Wring in the dew! Godavari, vert the showers! And grant
thaya grace! Aman. Will we spread them here now? Ay, we will. Flip ! Spread on
your bank and I'll spread mine on mine. Flep! It's what I'm doing. Spread ! It's
churning chill. Der went is rising. I'll lay a few stones on the hostel sheets.
A man and his bride embraced between them. Else I'd have sprinkled and folded
them only. And I'll tie my butcher's apron here. It's suety yet. The strollers
will pass it by. Six shifts, ten kerchiefs, nine to hold to the fire and this
for the code, the convent napkins,twelve, one baby's shawl. Good mother Jossiph
knows, she said. Whose head? Mutter snores? Deataceas! Wharnow are alle her
childer, say? In kingdome gone or power to come or gloria be to them farther?
Allalivial, allalluvial! Some here, more no more, more again lost alla stranger.
I've heard tell that same brooch of the Shannons was married into a family in
Spain. And all the Dunders de Dunnes in Markland's Vineland beyond Brendan's
herring pool takes number nine in yangsee's hats. And one of Biddy's beads went
bobbing till she rounded up lost histereve with a marigold and a cobbler's
candle in a side strain of a main drain of a manzinahurries off Bachelor's Walk.
But all that's left to the last of the Meaghers in the loup of the years
prefixed and between is one kneebuckle and two hooks in the front. Do you tell
me. that now? I do in troth. Orara por Orbe and poor Las Animas! Ussa, Ulla,
we're umbas all! Mezha, didn't you hear it a deluge of times, ufer and ufer,
respund to spond? You deed, you deed! I need, I need! It's that irrawaddyng I've
stoke in my aars. It all but husheth the lethest zswound. Oronoko ! What's your
trouble? Is that the great Finnleader himself in his joakimono on his statue
riding the high hone there forehengist? Father of Otters, it is himself! Yonne
there! Isset that? On Fallareen Common? You're thinking of Astley's
Amphitheayter where the bobby restrained you making sugarstuck pouts to the
ghostwhite horse of the Peppers. Throw the cobwebs from your eyes, woman, and
spread your washing proper! It's well I know your sort of slop. Flap! Ireland
sober is Ireland stiff Lord help you, Maria, full of grease, the load is with
me! Your prayers. I sonht zo! Madammangut! Were you lifting your elbow, tell us,
glazy cheeks, in Conway's Carrigacurra canteen? Was I what, hobbledyhips? Flop!
Your rere gait's creakorheuman bitts your butts disagrees. Amn't I up since the
damp tawn, marthared mary allacook, with Corrigan's pulse and varicoarse veins,
my pramaxle smashed, Alice Jane in decline and my oneeyed mongrel twice run
over, soaking and bleaching boiler rags, and sweating cold, a widow like me, for
to deck my tennis champion son, the laundryman with the lavandier flannels? You
won your limpopo limp fron the husky hussars when Collars and Cuffs was heir to
the town and your slur gave the stink to Carlow. Holy Scamander, I sar it again!
Near the golden falls. Icis on us! Seints of light! Zezere! Subdue your noise,
you hamble creature! What is it but a blackburry growth or the dwyergray ass
them four old codgers owns. Are you meanam Tarpey and Lyons and Gregory? I meyne
now, thank all, the four of them, and the roar of them, that draves that stray
in the mist and old Johnny MacDougal along with them. Is that the Poolbeg
flasher beyant, pharphar, or a fireboat coasting nyar the Kishtna or a glow I
behold within a hedge or my Garry come back from the Indes? Wait till the
honeying of the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in your
eye. We'll meet again, we'll part once more. The spot I'll seek if the hour
you'll find. My chart shines high where the blue milk's upset. Forgivemequick,
I'm going! Bubye! And you, pluck your watch, forgetmenot. Your evenlode. So save
to jurna's end! My sights are swimming thicker on me by the shadows to this
place. I sow home slowly now by own way, moyvalley way. Towy I too, rathmine.
Ah, but she was the queer old skeowsha anyhow, Anna Livia, trinkettoes! And sure
he was the quare old buntz too, Dear Dirty Dumpling, foostherfather of fingalls
and dotthergills. Gammer and gaffer we're all their gangsters. Hadn't he seven
dams to wive him? And every dam had her seven crutches. And every crutch had its
seven hues. And each hue had a differing cry. Sudds for me and supper for you
and the doctor's bill for Joe John. Befor! Bifur! He married his markets, cheap
by foul, I know, like any Etrurian Catholic Heathen, in their pinky limony
creamy birnies and their turkiss indienne mauves. But at milkidmass who was the
spouse? Then all that was was fair. Tys Elvenland ! Teems of times and happy
returns. The seim anew. Ordovico or viricordo. Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's
to be. Northmen's thing made southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made
eachone in person? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed
into oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on him, soft ones
for orphans. Ho, Lord ! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all
men. Hot? His tittering daughters of. Whawk?
Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flittering bats,
fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome? What Thom Malone? Can't hear
with bawk of bats, all thim liffeying waters of. Ho, talk save us ! My foos
won't moos. I feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All
Livia's daughtersons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel
as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who were Shem and Shaun the
living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night
night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of,
hitherandthithering waters of. Night!
