Page 722 (18.1207-1243) "are ah yes... Im nothing any"

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are
ah yes I know
I hope the old press doesnt creak
ah I knew it would
hes sleeping hard




had a good time somewhere
still she must have given him great value for his money
of course he has to pay for it from her




O this nuisance of a thing
I hope theyll have something better for us in the other world
tying ourselves up
God help us
thats all right for tonight now




the lumpy old jingly bed always reminds me of old Cohen
I suppose he scratched himself in it often enough
and he thinks father bought it from Lord Napier
that I used to admire when I was a little girl
because I told him




easy
piano
O I like my bed
God here we are as bad as ever after 16 years
how many houses were we in at all
Raymond terrace and Ontario terrace and Lombard street and Holles street
and he goes about whistling every time were on the run again
his huguenots or the frogs march
pretending to help the men with our 4 sticks of furniture




and then the City Arms hotel
worse and worse says Warden Daly
that charming place on the landing
always somebody inside praying
then leaving all their stinks after them
always know who was in there last




every time were just getting on right something happens
or he puts his big foot in it
Thoms and Helys and Mr Cuffes and Drimmies
either hes going to be run into prison
over his old lottery tickets that was to be all our salvations
or he goes and gives impudence




well have him coming home with the sack soon out of the Freeman too
like the rest
on account of those Sinner Fein or the freemasons
then well see if the little man he showed me
dribbling along in the wet all by himself round by Coadys lane
will give him much consolation
that he says is so capable and sincerely Irish
he is indeed judging by the sincerity of the trousers I saw on him




wait theres Georges church bells
wait 3 quarters the hour 1 wait 2 oclock
well thats a nice hour of the night for him to be coming home at to anybody
climbing down into the area
if anybody saw him




Ill knock him off that little habit tomorrow
first Ill look at his shirt to see
or Ill see if he has that French letter still in his pocketbook
I suppose he thinks I dont know
deceitful men
all their 20 pockets arent enough for their lies




then why should we tell them
even if its the truth they dont believe you
then tucked up in bed like those babies
in the Aristocrats Masterpiece he brought me another time
as if we hadnt enough of that in real life
without some old Aristocrat or whatever his name is
disgusting you more with those rotten pictures
children with two heads and no legs




thats the kind of villainy theyre always dreaming about
with not another thing in their empty heads
they ought to get slow poison the half of them
then tea and toast for him buttered on both sides and newlaid eggs
I suppose Im nothing any

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