Finnegans Wake Book 1 Chapter 1
Mutt. Has? Has at? Hasatency? Urp, Boohooru! Booru Usurp! I trumple from rath in mine mines when I rimimirim! Jute. One eyegonblack. Bisons is bisons. Let me fore all your hasitancy cross your qualm with trink gilt. Here have sylvan coyne, a piece of oak. Ghinees hies good for you. Mutt. Louee, louee! How wooden I not know it, the intel- lible greytcloak of Cedric Silkyshag! Cead mealy faulty rices for one dabblin bar. Old grilsy growlsy! He was poached on in that eggtentical spot. Here where the liveries, Monomark. There where the mis- sers moony, Minnikin passe. Jute. Simply because as Taciturn pretells, our wrongstory- shortener, he dumptied the wholeborrow of rubba- ges on to soil here. Mutt. Just how a puddinstone inat the brookcells by a riverpool.