"Джеймс Джойс "Поминки по Финнегану" (книга 1) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Dunlop was the name was on him: behung, all we are his bisaacles.
As hollyday in his house so was he priest and king to that: ulvy
came, envy saw, ivy conquered. Lou ! Lou! They have waved his
green boughs o'er him as they have torn him limb from lamb.
For his muertification and uxpiration and dumnation and annu-
hulation. With schreis and grida, deprofound souspirs. Steady,
sullivans! Mannequins pause! Longtong's breach is fallen down
but Graunya's spreed's abroad. Ahdostay, feedailyones, and feel
the Flucher's bawls for the total of your flouts is not fit to fan his
fettle,O! Have a ring and sing wohl! Chin, chin! Chin, chin!
And of course all chimed din width the eatmost boviality. Swip-
ing rums and beaunes and sherries and ciders and negus and cit-
ronnades too. The strongers. Oho, oho, Mester Begge, you're
about to be bagged in the bog again. Bugge. But softsies seuf-
sighed: Eheu, for gassies! But, lo! lo! by the threnning gods,
human, erring and condonable, what the statues of our kuo, who
is the messchef be our kuang, ashu ashure there, the unforgettable
treeshade looms up behind the jostling judgements of those, as
all should owe, malrecapturable days.
Tap and pat and tapatagain, (fire firstshot, Missiers the Refusel-
eers! Peingpeong! For saxonlootie!) three tommix, soldiers free,
cockaleak and cappapee, of the Coldstream. Guards were walking,
in (pardonnez-leur, je vous en prie, eh?) Montgomery Street. One
voiced an opinion in which on either wide (pardonnez!), nod-
ding, all the Finner Camps concurred (je vous en prie, eh?). It
was the first woman, they said, souped him, that fatal wellesday,
Lili Coninghams, by suggesting him they go in a field. Wroth
mod eldfar, ruth redd stilstand, wrath wrackt wroth, confessed
private Pat Marchison retro. (Terse!) Thus contenters with san-
toys play. One of our coming Vauxhall ontheboards who is
resting for the moment (she has been callit by a noted stagey ele-
cutioner a wastepacket Sittons) was interfeud in a waistend pewty
parlour. Looking perhaps even more pewtyflushed in her cherry-
derry padouasoys, girdle and braces by the halfmoon and Seven
Stars, russets from the Blackamoor's Head, amongst the climbing
boys at his Eagle and Child and over the corn and hay emptors
at their Black and All Black, Mrs F . . . A . . . saidaside, half in
stage of whisper to her confidante glass, while recoopering her
cartwheel chapot (ahat! -- and we now know what thimbles a
baquets on lallance a talls mean), she hoped Sid Arthar would
git a Chrissman's portrout of orange and lemonsized orchids with
hollegs and ether, from the feeatre of the Innocident, as the
worryld had been uncained. Then, while it is odrous comparison-
ing to the sprangflowers of his burstday which was a virid-
able goddinpotty for the reinworms and the charlattinas and all
branches of climatitis, it has been such a wanderful noyth untirely,
added she, with many regards to Maha's pranjapansies. (Tart!)
Prehistoric, obitered to his dictaphone an entychologist: his pro-
penomen is a properismenon. A dustman nocknamed Seven-
churches in the employ of Messrs Achburn, Soulpetre and