James Joyce
Book I

Chapter 2

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43 44 45 46 47                


    Now (to forebare for ever solittle of Iris Trees and Lili O'Ran-
gans), concerning the genesis of Harold or Humphrey Chimp-
den's occupational agnomen (we are back in the presurnames
prodromarith period, of course just when enos chalked halltraps)
and discarding once for all those theories from older sources which
would link him back with such pivotal ancestors as the Glues, the
Gravys, the Northeasts, the Ankers and the Earwickers of Sidles-
ham in the Hundred of Manhood or proclaim him offsprout of
vikings who had founded wapentake and seddled hem in Herrick
or Eric, the best authenticated version, the Dumlat, read the
Reading of Hofed-ben-Edar, has it that it was this way. We are
told how in the beginning it came to pass that like cabbaging
Cincinnatus the grand old gardener was saving daylight under his
redwoodtree one sultry sabbath afternoon, Hag Chivychas Eve,
in prefall paradise peace by following his plough for rootles in the
rere garden of mobhouse, ye olde marine hotel, when royalty was
announced by runner to have been pleased to have halted itself on
the highroad along which a leisureloving dogfox had cast fol-
lowed, also at walking pace, by a lady pack of cocker spaniels. For-
getful of all save his vassal's plain fealty to the ethnarch Humphrey
or Harold stayed not to yoke or saddle but stumbled out hotface
as he was (his sweatful bandanna loose from his pocketcoat) hast-
ing to the forecourts of his public in topee, surcingle, solascarf and
plaid, plus fours, puttees and bulldog boots ruddled cinnabar with

flagrant marl, jingling his turnpike keys and bearing aloft amid
the fixed pikes of the hunting party a high perch atop of which a
flowerpot was fixed earthside hoist with care. On his majesty, who
was, or often feigned to be, noticeably longsighted from green
youth and had been meaning to inquire what, in effect, had caused
yon causeway to be thus potholed, asking substitutionally to be
put wise as to whether paternoster and silver doctors were not
now more fancied bait for lobstertrapping honest blunt Harom-
phreyld answered in no uncertain tones very similarly with a fear-
less forehead: Naw, yer maggers, aw war jist a cotchin on thon
bluggy earwuggers. Our sailor king, who was draining a gugglet
of obvious adamale, gift both and gorban, upon this, ceasing to
swallow, smiled most heartily beneath his walrus moustaches and
indulging that none too genial humour which William the Conk
on the spindle side had inherited with the hereditary whitelock
and some shortfingeredness from his greataunt Sophy, turned to-
wards two of his retinue of gallowglasses, Michael, etheling lord
of Leix and Offaly and the jubilee mayor of Drogheda, Elcock,
(the two scatterguns being Michael M. Manning, protosyndic of
Waterford and an Italian excellency named Giubilei according to
a later version cited by the learned scholarch Canavan of Can-
makenoise), in either case a triptychal religious family symbolising
puritas of doctrina, business per usuals and the purchypatch of
hamlock where the paddish preties grow and remarked dilsydul-
sily: Holybones of Saint Hubert how our red brother of Pour-
ingrainia would audibly fume did he know that we have for sur-
trusty bailiwick a turnpiker who is by turns a pikebailer no sel-
domer than an earwigger! For he kinned Jom Pill with his court
so gray and his haunts in his house in the mourning. (One still
hears that pebble crusted laughta, japijap cheerycherrily, among
the roadside tree the lady Holmpatrick planted and still one feels
the amossive silence of the cladstone allegibelling: Ive mies outs
ide Bourn.) Comes the question are these the facts of his nom-
inigentilisation as recorded and accolated in both or either of the
collateral andrewpaulmurphyc narratives. Are those their fata
which we read in sibylline between the fas and its nefas? No dung

on the road? And shall Nohomiah be our place like? Yea, Mulachy
our kingable khan? We shall perhaps not so soon see. Pinck
poncks that bail for seeks alicence where cumsceptres with scen-
taurs stay. Bear in mind, son of Hokmah, if so be you have me-
theg in your midness, this man is mountain and unto changeth
doth one ascend. Heave we aside the fallacy, as punical as finikin,
that it was not the king kingself but his inseparable sisters, un-
controllable nighttalkers, Skertsiraizde with Donyahzade, who
afterwards, when the robberers shot up the socialights, came down
into the world as amusers and were staged by Madame Sudlow
as Rosa and Lily Miskinguette in the pantalime that two pitts
paythronosed, Miliodorus and Galathee. The great fact emerges
that after that historic date all holographs so far exhumed ini-
tialled by Haromphrey bear the sigla H.C.E. and while he was
only and long and always good Dook Umphrey for the hunger-
lean spalpeens of Lucalizod and Chimbers to his cronies it was
equally certainly a pleasant turn of the populace which gave him
as sense of those normative letters the nickname Here Comes
Everybody. An imposing everybody he always indeed looked,
constantly the same as and equal to himself and magnificently well
worthy of any and all such universalisation, every time he con-
tinually surveyed, amid vociferatings from in front of Accept these
few nutties!
and Take off that white hat!, relieved with Stop his Grog
and Put It in the Log and Loots in his (bassvoco) Boots, from good
start to happy finish the truly catholic assemblage gathered together
in that king's treat house of satin alustrelike above floats and foot-
lights from their assbawlveldts and oxgangs unanimously to clap-
plaud (the inspiration of his lifetime and the hits of their careers)
Mr Wallenstein Washington Semperkelly's immergreen tourers
in a command performance by special request with the courteous
permission for pious purposes the homedromed and enliventh
performance of problem passion play of the millentury, running
strong since creation, A Royal Divorce, then near the approach
towards the summit of its climax, with ambitious interval band
selections from The Bo' Girl and The Lily on all horserie show
command nights from his viceregal booth (his bossaloner is ceil-

inged there a cuckoospit less eminent than the redritualhoods of
Maccabe and Cullen) where, a veritable Napoleon the Nth, our
worldstage's practical jokepiece and retired cecelticocommediant
in his own wise, this folksforefather all of the time sat, having the
entirety of his house about him, with the invariable broadstretched
kerchief cooling his whole neck, nape and shoulderblades and in
a wardrobe panelled tuxedo completely thrown back from a shirt
well entitled a swallowall, on every point far outstarching the
laundered clawhammers and marbletopped highboys of the pit
stalls and early amphitheatre. The piece was this: look at the lamps.
The cast was thus: see under the clock. Ladies circle: cloaks may
be left. Pit, prommer and parterre, standing room only. Habituels
conspicuously emergent.
    A baser meaning has been read into these characters the literal
sense of which decency can safely scarcely hint. It has been blur-
tingly bruited by certain wisecrackers (the stinks of Mohorat are
in the nightplots of the morning), that he suffered from a vile
disease. Athma, unmanner them! To such a suggestion the one
selfrespecting answer is to affirm that there are certain statements
which ought not to be, and one should like to hope to be able to
add, ought not to be allowed to be made. Nor have his detractors,
who, an imperfectly warmblooded race, apparently conceive him
as a great white caterpillar capable of any and every enormity in
the calendar recorded to the discredit of the Juke and Kellikek
families, mended their case by insinuating that, alternately, he lay
at one time under the ludicrous imputation of annoying Welsh
fusiliers in the people's park. Hay, hay, hay! Hoq, hoq, hoq!
Faun and Flora on the lea love that little old joq. To anyone who
knew and loved the christlikeness of the big cleanminded giant
H. C. Earwicker throughout his excellency long vicefreegal exis-
tence the mere suggestion of him as a lustsleuth nosing for trou-
ble in a boobytrap rings particularly preposterous. Truth, beard
on prophet, compels one to add that there is said to have been
quondam (pfuit! pfuit!) some case of the kind implicating, it is
interdum believed, a quidam (if he did not exist it would be ne-
cessary quoniam to invent him) abhout that time stambuling ha-

round Dumbaling in leaky sneakers with his tarrk record who
has remained topantically anonymos but (let us hue him Abdul-
lah Gamellaxarksky) was, it is stated, posted at Mallon's at the
instance of watch warriors of the vigilance committee and years
afterwards, cries one even greater, Ibid, a commender of the
frightful, seemingly, unto such as were sulhan sated, tropped head
(pfiat! pfiat!) waiting his first of the month froods turn for
thatt chopp pah kabbakks alicubi on the old house for the charge-
hard, Roche Haddocks off Hawkins Street. Lowe, you blondy
liar, Gob scene you in the narked place and she what's edith ar
home defileth these boyles! There's a cabful of bash indeed in
the homeur of that meal. Slander, let it lie its flattest, has never
been able to convict our good and great and no ordinary Southron
Earwicker, that homogenius man, as a pious author called him, of
any graver impropriety than that, advanced by some woodwards
or regarders, who did not dare deny, the shomers, that they had,
chin Ted, chin Tam, chinchin Taffyd, that day consumed their
soul of the corn, of having behaved with ongentilmensky im-
modus opposite a pair of dainty maidservants in the swoolth of
the rushy hollow whither, or so the two gown and pinners plead-
ed, dame nature in all innocency had spontaneously and about the
same hour of the eventide sent them both but whose published
combinations of silkinlaine testimonies are, where not dubiously
pure, visibly divergent, as wapt from wept, on minor points touch-
ing the intimate nature of this, a first offence in vert or venison
which was admittedly an incautious but, at its wildest, a partial ex-
posure with such attenuating circumstances (garthen gaddeth green
hwere sokeman brideth girling) as an abnormal Saint Swithin's
summer and, (Jesses Rosasharon!) a ripe occasion to provoke it.
    We can't do without them. Wives, rush to the restyours! Of-
man will toman while led is the lol. Zessid's our kadem, villa-
pleach, vollapluck. Fikup, for flesh nelly, el mundo nov, zole flen!
If she's a lilyth, pull early! Pauline, allow! And malers abushed,
keep black, keep black! Guiltless of much laid to him he was
clearly for once at least he clearly expressed himself as being with
still a trace of his erstwhile burr and hence it has been received of

us that it is true. They tell the story (an amalgam as absorbing as
calzium chloereydes and hydrophobe sponges could make it) how
one happygogusty Ides-of-April morning (the anniversary, as it
fell out, of his first assumption of his mirthday suit and rights in
appurtenance to the confusioning of human races) ages and ages
after the alleged misdemeanour when the tried friend of all crea-
tion, tigerwood roadstaff to his stay, was billowing across the
wide expanse of our greatest park in his caoutchouc kepi and
great belt and hideinsacks and his blaufunx fustian and ironsides
jackboots and Bhagafat gaiters and his rubberised inverness, he
met a cad with a pipe. The latter, the luciferant not the oriuolate
(who, the odds are, is still berting dagabout in the same straw
bamer, carryin his overgoat under his schulder, sheepside out, so
as to look more like a coumfry gentleman and signing the pledge
as gaily as you please) hardily accosted him with: Guinness thaw
tool in jew me dinner ouzel fin? (a nice how-do-you-do in Pool-
black at the time as some of our olddaisers may still tremblingly
recall) to ask could he tell him how much a clock it was that the
clock struck had he any idea by cock's luck as his watch was
bradys. Hesitency was clearly to be evitated. Execration as cleverly
to be honnisoid. The Earwicker of that spurring instant, realising
on fundamental liberal principles the supreme importance, nexally
and noxally, of physical life (the nearest help relay being pingping
K. O. Sempatrick's Day and the fenian rising) and unwishful as
he felt of being hurled into eternity right then, plugged by a soft-
nosed bullet from the sap, halted, quick on the draw, and reply-
in that he was feelin tipstaff, cue, prodooced from his gunpocket
his Jurgensen's shrapnel waterbury, ours by communionism, his
by usucapture, but, on the same stroke, hearing above the skirl-
ing of harsh Mother East old Fox Goodman, the bellmaster, over
the wastes to south, at work upon the ten ton tonuant thunder-
ous tenor toller in the speckled church (Couhounin's call!) told
the inquiring kidder, by Jehova, it was twelve of em sidereal and
tankard time, adding, buttall, as he bended deeply with smoked
sardinish breath to give more pondus to the copperstick he pre-
sented (though this seems in some cumfusium with the chap-

stuck ginger which, as being of sours, acids, salts, sweets and
bitters compompounded, we know him to have used as chaw-
chaw for bone, muscle, blood, flesh and vimvital,) that where-
as the hakusay accusation againstm had been made, what was
known in high quarters as was stood stated in Morganspost, by
a creature in youman form who was quite beneath parr and seve-
ral degrees lower than yore triplehydrad snake. In greater sup-
port of his word (it, quaint anticipation of a famous phrase, has
been reconstricted out of oral style into the verbal for all time
with ritual rhythmics, in quiritary quietude, and toosammen-
stucked from successive accounts by Noah Webster in the re-
daction known as the Sayings Attributive of H. C. Earwicker,
prize on schillings, postlots free), the flaxen Gygas tapped his
chronometrum drumdrum and, now standing full erect, above
the ambijacent floodplain, scene of its happening, with one Ber-
lin gauntlet chopstuck in the hough of his ellboge (by ancientest
signlore his gesture meaning: !) pointed at an angle of thirty-
two degrees towards his duc de Fer's overgrown milestone as
fellow to his gage and after a rendypresent pause averred with
solemn emotion's fire: Shsh shake, co-comeraid! Me only, them
five ones, he is equal combat. I have won straight. Hence my
nonation wide hotel and creamery establishments which for the
honours of our mewmew mutual daughters, credit me, I am woo-
woo willing to take my stand, sir, upon the monument, that sign
of our ruru redemption, any hygienic day to this hour and to
make my hoath to my sinnfinners, even if I get life for it, upon
the Open Bible and before the Great Taskmaster's (I lift my hat!)
and in the presence of the Deity Itself andwell of Bishop and
Mrs Michan of High Church of England as of all such of said
my immediate withdwellers and of every living sohole in every
corner wheresoever of this globe in general which useth of my
British to my backbone tongue and commutative justice that
there is not one tittle of truth, allow me to tell you, in that purest
of fibfib fabrications.
    Gaping Gill, swift to mate errthors, stern to checkself, (diag-
nosing through eustacetube that it was to make with a markedly

postpuberal hypertituitary type of Heidelberg mannleich cavern
ethics) lufted his slopingforward, bad Sweatagore good mur-
rough and dublnotch on to it as he was greedly obliged, and
like a sensible ham, with infinite tact in the delicate situation seen
the touchy nature of its perilous theme, thanked um for guilders
received and time of day (not a little token abock all the same that
that was owl the God's clock it was) and, upon humble duty to
greet his Tyskminister and he shall gildthegap Gaper and thee his
a mouldy voids, went about his business, whoever it was, saluting
corpses, as a metter of corse (one could hound him out had one
hart to for the monticules of scalp and dandruff droppings blaze
his trail) accompanied by his trusty snorler and his permanent 
reflection, verbigracious; I have met with you, bird, too late,
or if not, too worm and early: and with tag for ildiot repeated
in his secondmouth language as many of the bigtimer's verbaten
words which he could balbly call to memory that same kveldeve,
ere the hour of the twattering of bards in the twitterlitter between
Druidia and the Deepsleep Sea, when suppertide and souvenir to
Charlatan Mall jointly kem gently and along the quiet darkenings
of Grand and Royal, ff, flitmansfluh, and, kk, 't crept i' hedge
whenas to many a softongue's pawkytalk mude unswer u sufter
poghyogh, Arvanda always aquiassent, while, studying castelles
in the blowne and studding cowshots over the noran, he spat in
careful convertedness a musaic dispensation about his hearthstone,
if you please, (Irish saliva, mawshe dho hole, but would a respect-
able prominently connected fellow of Iro-European ascendances
with welldressed ideas who knew the correct thing such as Mr
Shallwesigh or Mr Shallwelaugh expectorate after such a callous
fashion, no thank yous! when he had his belcher spuckertuck in his
pucket, pthuck?) musefed with his thockits after having supped
of the dish sot and pottage which he snobbishly dabbed Peach
Bombay (it is rawly only Lukanpukan pilzenpie which she knows
which senaffed and pibered him), a supreme of excelling peas,
balled under minnshogue's milk into whitemalt winesour, a pro-
viant the littlebilker hoarsely relished, chaff it, in the snevel season,
being as fain o't as your rat wi'fennel; and on this celebrating

occasion of the happy escape, for a crowning of pot valiance,
this regional platter, benjamin of bouillis, with a spolish olive to
middlepoint its zaynith, was marrying itself (porkograso!) ere-
busqued very deluxiously with a bottle of Phenice-Bruerie '98,
followed for second nuptials by a Piessporter, Grand Cur, of
both of which cherished tablelights (though humble the bounquet
'tis a leaman's farewell) he obdurately sniffed the cobwebcrusted
    Our cad's bit of strife (knee Bareniece Maxwelton) with a quick
ear for spittoons (as the aftertale hath it) glaned up as usual with
dumbestic husbandry (no persicks and armelians for thee, Pome-
ranzia!) but, slipping the clav in her claw, broke of the matter
among a hundred and eleven others in her usual curtsey (how
faint these first vhespers womanly are, a secret pispigliando, amad
the lavurdy den of their manfolker!) the next night nudge one
as was Hegesippus over a hup a ' chee, her eys dry and small and
speech thicklish because he appeared a funny colour like he
couldn't stood they old hens no longer, to her particular reverend,
the director, whom she had been meaning in her mind primarily
to speak with (hosch, intra! jist a timblespoon!) trusting, between
cuppled lips and annie lawrie promises (mighshe never have
Esnekerry pudden come Hunanov for her pecklapitschens!) that
the gossiple so delivered in his epistolear, buried teatoastally in
their Irish stew would go no further than his jesuit's cloth, yet
(in vinars venitas! volatiles valetotum!) it was this overspoiled
priest Mr Browne, disguised as a vincentian, who, when seized
of the facts, was overheard, in his secondary personality as a
Nolan and underreared, poul soul, by accident ― if, that is, the
incident it was an accident for here the ruah of Ecclectiastes
of Hippo outpuffs the writress of Havvah-ban-Annah ― to
pianissime a slightly varied version of Crookedribs confidentials,
(what Mere Aloyse said but for Jesuphine's sake!) hands between
hahands, in fealty sworn (my bravor best! my fraur!) and, to the
strains of The Secret of Her Birth, hushly pierce the rubiend
aurellum of one Philly Thurnston, a layteacher of rural science
and orthophonethics of a nearstout figure and about the middle

of his forties during a priestly flutter for safe and sane bets at the
hippic runfields of breezy Baldoyle on a date (W. W. goes
through the card) easily capable of rememberance by all pickers-
up of events national and Dublin details, the doubles of Perkin
and Paullock, peer and prole, when the classic Encourage Hackney
Plate was captured by two noses in a stablecloth finish, ek and nek,
some and none, evelo nevelo, from the cream colt Bold Boy
Cromwell after a clever getaway by Captain Chaplain Blount's
roe hinny Saint Dalough, Drummer Coxon, nondepict third, at
breakneck odds, thanks to you great little, bonny little, portey
little, Winny Widger! you're all their nappies! who in his never-
rip mud and purpular cap was surely leagues unlike any other
phantomweight that ever toppitt our timber maggies.
    'Twas two pisononse Timcoves (the wetter is pest, the renns are
overt and come and the voax of the turfur is hurled on our lande)
of the name of Treacle Tom as was just out of pop following the
theft of a leg of Kehoe, Donnelly and Packenham's Finnish pork
and his own blood and milk brother Frisky Shorty, (he was, to be
exquisitely punctilious about them, both shorty and frisky) a tip-
ster, come off the hulks, both of them awful poor, what was out
on the bumaround for an oofbird game for a jimmy o'goblin or
a small thick un as chanced, while the Seaforths was making the
colleenbawl, to ear the passon in the motor clobber make use of
his law language (Edzo, Edzo on), touchin the case of Mr Adams
what was in all the sundays about it which he was rubbing noses
with and having a gurgle off his own along of the butty bloke in
the specs.
    This Treacle Tom to whom reference has been made had
been absent from his usual wild and woolly haunts in the land
of counties capalleens for some time previous to that (he was, in
fact, in the habit of frequenting common lodginghouses where
he slept in a nude state, hailfellow with meth, in strange men's
cots) but on racenight, blotto after divers tots of hell fire, red
biddy, bull dog, blue ruin and creeping jenny, Eglandine's choic-
est herbage, supplied by the Duck and Doggies, the Galop-
ping Primrose, Brigid Brewster's, the Cock, the Postboy's Horn,

the Little Old Man's and All Swell That Aimswell, the Cup and
the Stirrup, he sought his wellwarmed leababobed in a hous-
ingroom Abide With Oneanother at Block W.W., (why didn't
he back it?) Pump Court, The Liberties, and, what with
moltapuke on voltapuke, resnored alcoh alcoho alcoherently to
the burden of I come, my horse delayed, nom num, the sub-
stance of the tale of the evangelical bussybozzy and the rusinur-
bean (the 'girls' he would keep calling them for the collarette
and skirt, the sunbonnet and carnation) in parts (it seemed he
was before the eyots of martas or otherwales the thirds of fossil-
years, he having beham with katya when lavinias had her mens
lease to sea in a psumpship doodly show whereat he was looking
for fight niggers with whilde roarses) oft in the chilly night (the
metagonistic! the epickthalamorous!) during uneasy slumber in
their hearings of a small and stonybroke cashdraper's executive,
Peter Cloran (discharged), O'Mara, an exprivate secretary of no
fixed abode (locally known as Mildew Lisa), who had passed
several nights, funnish enough, in a doorway under the blankets
of homelessness on the bunk of iceland, pillowed upon the stone
of destiny colder than man's knee or woman's breast, and
Hosty, (no slouch of a name), an illstarred beachbusker, who,
sans rootie and sans scrapie, suspicioning as how he was setting
on a twoodstool on the verge of selfabyss, most starved, with
melancholia over everything in general, (night birman, you served
him with natigal's nano!) had been towhead tossing on his shake-
down, devising ways and manners of means, of what he loved
to ifidalicence somehow or other in the nation getting a hold of
some chap's parabellum in the hope of taking a wing sociable
and lighting upon a sidewheel dive somewhere off the Dullkey
Downlairy and Bleakrooky tramaline where he could throw true
and go and blow the sibicidal napper off himself for two bits to
boldywell baltitude in the peace and quitybus of a one sure shot
bottle, he after having being trying all he knew with the lady's
help of Madam Gristle for upwards of eighteen calanders to get
out of Sir Patrick Dun's, through Sir Humphrey Jervis's and
into the Saint Kevin's bed in the Adelaide's hosspittles (from

these incurable welleslays among those uncarable wellasdays
through Sant Iago by his cocklehat, good Lazar, deliver us!)
without after having been able to jerrywangle it anysides. Lisa
O'Deavis and Roche Mongan (who had so much incommon,
epipsychidically; if the phrase be permitted hostis et odor insuper
) as an understood thing slept their sleep of the
swimborne in the one sweet undulant mother of tumblerbunks
with Hosty just how the shavers in the shaw the yokels in the
yoats or, well, the wasters in the wilde, and the bustling tweeny-
dawn-of-all-works (meed of anthems here we pant!) had not been
many jiffies furbishing potlids, doorbrasses, scholars' applecheeks
and linkboy's metals when, ashhopperminded like no fella he go
make bakenbeggfuss longa white man, the rejuvenated busker (for
after a goodnight's rave and rumble and a shinkhams topmorning
with his coexes he was not the same man) and his broadawake
bedroom suite (our boys, as our Byron called them) were up
and ashuffle from the hogshome they lovenaned The Barrel, cross
Ebblinn's chilled hamlet (thrie routes and restings on their then
superficies curiously correspondant with those linea and puncta
where our tubenny habenny metro maniplumbs below the ober-
flake underrails and stations at this time of riding) to the thrum-
mings of a crewth fiddle which, cremoaning and cronauning, levey
grevey, witty and wevey, appy, leppy and playable, caressed the
ears of the subjects of King Saint Finnerty the Festive who, in
brick homes of their own and in their flavory fraiseberry beds,
heeding hardly cry of honeyman, soed lavender or foyneboyne
salmon alive, with their priggish mouths all open for the larger
appraisiation of this longawaited Messiagh of roaratorios, were
only halfpast atsweeeep and after a brisk pause at a pawnbroking
establishment for the prothetic purpose of redeeming the song-
ster's truly admirable false teeth and a prolonged visit to a house
of call at Cujas Place, fizz, the Old Sots' Hole in the parish of
Saint Cecily within the liberty of Ceolmore not a thousand or one
national leagues, that was, by Griffith's valuation, from the site
of the statue of Primewer Glasstone setting a match to the march
of a maker (last of the stewards peut-être), where, the tale rambles

along, the trio of whackfolthediddlers was joined by a further ―   
intentions ― apply ― tomorrow casual and a decent sort of the
hadbeen variety who had just been touching the weekly insult,
phewit, and all figblabbers (who saith of noun?) had stimulants
in the shape of gee and gees stood by the damn decent sort after
which stag luncheon and a few ones more just to celebrate yester-
day, flushed with their firestufffostered friendship, the rascals came
out of the licensed premises, (Browne's first, the small p.s. ex-ex-
executive capahand in their sad rear like a lady's postscript: I want
money. Pleasend), wiping their laughleaking lipes on their sleeves,
how the bouckaleens shout their roscan generally (seinn fion,
seinn fion's araun.) and the rhymers' world was with reason the
richer for a wouldbe ballad, to the balledder of which the world
of cumannity singing owes a tribute for having placed on the
planet's melomap his lay of the vilest bogeyer but most attrac-
tionable avatar the world has ever had to explain for.
    This, more krectly lubeen or fellow―me
lieder was first
poured forth where Riau Liviau riots and col de Houdo humps,
under the shadow of the monument of the shouldhavebeen legis-
lator (Eleutheriodendron! Spare, woodmann, spare!) to an over-
flow meeting of all the nations in Lenster fullyfilling the visional
area and, as a singleminded supercrowd, easily representative,
what with masks, whet with faces, of all sections and cross sections
(wineshop and cocoahouse poured out to brim up the broaching)
of our liffeyside people (to omit to mention of the mainland mino-
rity and such as had wayfared via Watling, Ernin, Icknild and
Stane, in chief a halted cockney car with its quotal of Hardmuth's
hacks, a northern tory, a southern whig, an eastanglian chroni-
cler and a landwester guardian) ranging from slips of young
dublinos from Cutpurse Row having nothing better to do than
walk about with their hands in their kneepants, sucking air-
whackers, weedulicet, jumbobricks, side by side with truant
officers, three woollen balls and poplin in search of a croust of
pawn to busy professional gentlemen, a brace of palesmen with
dundrearies, nooning toward Daly's, fresh from snipehitting and
mallardmissing on Rutland heath, exchanging cold sneers, mass-

going ladies from Hume Street in their chairs, the bearers baited,
some wandering hamalags out of the adjacent cloverfields of
Mosse's Gardens, an oblate fater from Skinner's Alley, brick-
layers, a fleming, in tabinet fumant, with spouse and dog, an aged
hammersmith who had some chisellers by the hand, a bout of
cudgel players, not a few sheep with the braxy, two bluecoat
scholars, four broke gents out of Simpson's on the Rocks, a
portly and a pert still tassing Turkey Coffee and orange shrub in
tickeyes door, Peter Pim and Paul Fry and then Elliot and, O,
Atkinson, suffering hell's delights from the blains of their annui-
tant's acorns not forgetting a deuce of dianas ridy for the hunt, a
particularist prebendary pondering on the roman easter, the ton-
sure question and greek uniates, plunk em, a lace lappet head or
two or three or four from a window, and so on down to a few good
old souls, who, as they were juiced after taking their pledge over at
the unkle's place, were evidently under the spell of liquor, from the
wake of Tarry the Tailor a fair girl, a jolly postboy thinking off
three flagons and one, a plumodrole, a half sir from the weaver's
almshouse who clings and clings and chatchatchat clings to her, a
wholedam's cloudhued pittycoat, as child, as curiolater, as Caoch
O'Leary. The wararrow went round, so it did, (a nation wants
a gaze) and the ballad, in the felibrine trancoped metre affectioned
by Taiocebo in his Casudas de Poulichinello Artahut, stump-
stampaded on to a slip of blancovide and headed by an excessively
rough and red woodcut, privately printed at the rimepress of
Delville, soon fluttered its secret on white highway and brown
byway to the rose of the winds and the blew of the gaels, from
archway to lattice and from black hand to pink ear, village crying
to village, through the five pussyfours green of the united states
of Scotia Picta ― and he who denies it, may his hairs be rubbed
in dirt! To the added strains (so peacifold) of his majesty the
floote, that onecrooned king of inscrewments, Piggots's purest, ciello
which Mr Delaney (Mr Delacey?), horn, anticipating
a perfect downpour of plaudits among the rapsods, piped
out of his decentsoort hat, looking still more like his purseyful
namesake as men of Gaul noted, but before of to sputabout, the

snowycrested curlamoist the leader's wild and moulting hair,
'Ductor' Hitchcock hoisted his fezzy fuzz at bludgeon's height
signum to his companions of the chalice for the Loud Fellow,
boys' and silentium in curia! (our maypole once more where he rose
of old) and the canto was chantied there chorussed and christened
where by the old tollgate, Saint Annona's Street and Church.
    And aroud the lawn the rann it rann and this is the rann that
Hosty made. Spoken. Boyles and Cahills, Skerretts and Pritchards,
viersefied and piersified may the treeth we tale of live in stoney.
Here line the refrains of. Some vote him Vike, some mote him
Mike, some dub him Llyn and Phin while others hail him Lug
Bug Dan Lop, Lex, Lax, Gunne or Guinn. Some apt him Arth,
some bapt him Barth, Coll, Noll, Soll, Will, Weel, Wall but I
parse him Persse O'Reilly else he's called no name at all. To-
gether. Arrah, leave it to Hosty, frosty Hosty, leave it to Hosty
for he's the mann to rhyme the rann, the rann, the rann, the king
of all ranns. Have you here? (Some ha) Have we where? (Some
hant) Have you hered? (Others do) Have we whered (Others dont)
It's cumming, it's brumming! The clip, the clop! (All cla) Glass
crash. The (klikkaklakkaklaskaklopatzklatschabattacreppycrotty-


Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty
How he fell with a roll and a rumble
And curled up like Lord Olofa Crumple
By the butt of the Magazine Wall,
       (Chorus) Of the Magazine Wall,
                      Hump, helmet and all?

He was one time our King of the Castle
Now he's kicked about like a rotten old parsnip.
And from Green street he'll be sent by order of His Worship
To the penal jail of Mountjoy
       (Chorus) To the jail of Mountjoy!
                      Jail him and joy

He was fafafather of all schemes for to bother us
Slow coaches and immaculate contraceptives for the populace,
Mare's milk for the sick, seven dry Sundays a week,
Openair love and religion's reform,
       (Chorus) And religious reform,
                      Hideous in form.

Arrah, why, says you, couldn't he manage it?
I'll go bail, my fine dairyman darling,
Like the bumping bull of the Cassidys
All your butter is in your horns.
        (Chorus) His butter is in his horns.
                       Butter his horns!

(Repeat) Hurrah there, Hosty, frosty Hosty, change that shirt
                                                                                     [on ye,
Rhyme the rann, the king of all ranns!                              

                               Balbaccio, balbuccio!
We had chaw chaw chops, chairs, chewing gum, the chicken-
                                                         [pox and china chambers
Universally provided by this soffsoaping salesman.

Small wonder He'll Cheat E'erawan our local lads nicknamed him
When Chimpden first took the floor
         (Chorus) With his bucketshop store
                        Down Bargainweg, Lower.

So snug he was in his hotel premises sumptuous
But soon we'll bonfire all his trash, tricks and trumpery
And'tis short till sheriff Clancy'll be winding up his unlimited
With the bailiff's bom at the door,
       (Chorus) Bimbam at the door.
                      Then he'll bum no more.

Sweet bad luck on the waves washed to our island
The hooker of that hammerfast viking
And Gall's curse on the day when Eblana bay
Saw his black and tan man-o'-war.
        (Chorus) Saw his man-o'-war.
                       On the harbour bar.

Where from? roars Poolbeg. Cookingha'pence, he bawls Donnez-
                                           [moi scampitle, wick an wipin'fampiny
Fingal Mac Oscar Onesine Bargearse Boniface
Thok's min gammelhole Norveegickers moniker
Og as ay are at gammelhore Norveegickers cod.
       (Chorus) A Norwegian camel old cod.
                      He is, begod.

Lift it, Hosty, lift it, ye devil ye! up with the rann, the rhyming

It was during some fresh water garden pumping
Or, according to the Nursing Mirror, while admiring the mon
That our heavyweight heathen Humpharey
Made bold a maid to woo
         (Chorus) Woohoo, what'll she doo!
                        The general lost her maidenloo!

He ought to blush for himself, the old hayheaded philosopher,
For to go and shove himself that way on top of her.
Begob, he's the crux of the catalogue
Of our antediluvial zoo,
       (Chorus) Messrs. Billing and Coo.
                      Noah's larks, good as noo.

He was joulting by Wellinton's monument
Our rotorious hippopopotamuns
When some bugger let down the backtrap of the omnibus
And he caught his death of fusiliers,
        (Chorus) With his rent in his rears.
                       Give him six years.

'Tis sore pity for his innocent poor children
But look out for his missus legitimate!
When that frew gets a grip of old Earwicker
Won't there be earwigs on the green?
        (Chorus) Big earwigs on the green,
                       The largest ever you seen.

 Suffoclose! Shikespower! Seudodanto! Anonymoses!

Then we'll have a free trade Gaels' band and mass meeting
For to sod the brave son of Scandiknavery.
And we'll bury him down in Oxmanstown
Along with the devil and Danes,
       (Chorus) With the deaf and dumb Danes,
                      And all their remains.

And not all the king's men nor his horses
Will resurrect his corpus
For there's no true spell in Connacht or hell
       (bis) That's able to raise a Cain.