know(whereas when i lie down i cough too much). How did the traffic get so jammed? bedad it is the famous doctor who inserts monkeyglands in millionaires a cute idea n’est-ce pas? (whereas, upon the other hand, myself)but let us next demand wherefore yon mob an accident? somebody got concus- sion of the brain?--Not a bit of it, my dears merely the prime minister of Siam in native costume, who emerging from a pissoir enters abruptly Notre Dame(whereas de gustibus non disputandum est my lady is tired of That sort of thing XIX this young question mark man question mark who suffers from indigestion question mark is a remarkably charming person personally they tell me as for me i only knows that as far as his pictures goes he’s a wet dream by Cézanne XX mr youse needn’t be so spry concernin questions arty each has his tastes but as for i i likes a certain party gimme the he-man’s solid bliss for youse ideas i’ll match youse a pretty girl who naked is is worth a million statues XXI i was sitting in mcsorley’s. outside it was New York and beautifully snowing. Inside snug and evil. the slobbering walls filthily push witless creases of screaming warmth chuck pil- lows are noise funnily swallows swallowing revolv- ingly pompous a the swallowed mottle with smooth or a but of rapidly goes gobs the and of flecks of and a chatter sobbings intersect with which distinct disks of graceful oath, upsoarings the break on ceiling- flatness the Bar.tinking luscious jigs dint of ripe silver with warmlyish wetflat splurging smells waltz the glush of squirting taps plus slush of foam knocked off and a faint piddle-of-drops she says I ploc spittle what the lands thaz me kid in no sir hopping sawdust you kiddo he’s a palping wreaths of badly Yep cigars who jim him why gluey grins topple together eyes pout gestures stickily point made glints squinting who’s a wink bum-nothing and money fuzzily mouths take big wobbly foot-steps every goggle cent of it get out ears dribbles soft right old feller belch the chap hic sum- more eh chuckles skulch. . . . and i was sitting in the din thinking drinking the ale, which never lets you grow old blinking at the low ceiling my being pleasantly was punctuated by the al- ways retchings of a worthless lamp. when With a minute terrif iceffortone dirty squeal of soiling light yanKing from bushy obscurity a bald greenish foetal head established It suddenly upon the huge neck around whose unwashed sonorous muscle the filth of a collar hung gently. (spattered)by this instant of semiluminous nausea A vast wordless nondescript genie of trunk trickled firm- ly in to one exactly-mutilated ghost of a chair,