and repeating himself and he sod town with the murky light, the botchy print, the tattered cover, the jigjagged page, the fumbling fingers, the foxtrotting fleas, the lieabed lice, the scum on his plankraft of shittim wood. Look at this deleteful hour of being mistakenly ambushed by one (To Blockbeddum here! Here the Shoebenacaddie!) and legging a jig of a Peppybeg, Mr Himmyshimmy, a blighty, a reeky, a lighty, a scrapy, a bab- bly, a ninny, dirty seventh among thieves and always will be. And cast ashore. That I chid