027.01 after Tom Bowe Glassarse or Timmy the Tosser. 'Tisrealy the

027.02 truth! No isn't it, roman pathoricks? You were the doublejoynted

027.03 janitor the morning they were delivered and you'll be a grandfer

027.04 yet entirely when the ritehand seizes what the lovearm knows.

027.05 Kevin's just a doat with his cherub cheek, chalking oghres on

027.06 walls, and his little lamp and schoolbelt and bag of knicks, playing

027.07 postman's knock round the diggings and if the seep were milk

027.08 you could lieve his olde by his ide but, laus sake, the devil does

027.09 be in that knirps of a Jerry sometimes, the tarandtan plaidboy,

027.10 making encostive inkum out of the last of his lavings and writing

027.11 a blue streak over his bourseday shirt. Hetty Jane's a child of

027.12 Mary. She'll be coming (for they're sure to choose her) in her

027.13 white of gold with a tourch of ivy to rekindle the flame on Felix

027.14 Day. But Essie Shanahan has let down her skirts. You remember

027.15 Essie in our Luna's Convent? They called her Holly Merry her

027.16 lips were so ruddyberry and Pia de Purebelle when the redminers

027.17 riots was on about her. Were I a clerk designate to the Williams-

027.18 woodsmenufactors I'd poster those pouters on every jamb in the

027.19 town. She's making her rep at Lanner's twicenightly. With the

027.20 tabarine tamtammers of the whirligigmagees. Beats that cachucha

027.21 flat. 'Twould dilate your heart to go.

[027.22-027.30]: he attempts to rise — the four restrain him.

027.22 Aisy now, you decent man, with your knees and lie quiet and

027.23 repose your honour's lordship! Hold him here, Ezekiel Irons, and

027.24 may God strengthen you! It's our warm spirits, boys, he's spoor-

027.25 ing. Dimitrius O'Flagonan, cork that cure for the Clancartys! You

027.26 swamped enough since Portobello to float the Pomeroy. Fetch

027.27 neahere, Pat Koy! And fetch nouyou, Pam Yates! Be nayther

027.28 angst of Wramawitch! Here's lumbos. Where misties swaddlum,

027.29 where misches lodge none, where mystries pour kind on, O

027.30 sleepy! So be yet!

[027.31-028.34]: the whole household is fine — so is the wife.

027.31 I've an eye on queer Behan and old Kate and the butter, trust me.

027.32 She'll do no jugglywuggly with her war souvenir postcards to

027.33 help to build me murial, tippers! I'll trip your traps! Assure a

027.34 sure there! And we put on your clock again, sir, for you. Did or

027.35 didn't we, sharestutterers? So you won't be up a stump entirely.

027.36 Nor shed your remnants. The sternwheel's crawling strong. I