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likemewheresoftlysighsoflovethelightguitarwherepoetryisintheairtheblueseaandthemoonshiningsobeautifullycomingbackonthenightboatfromTarifathelighthouseatEuropapointtheguitarthatfellowplayedwassoexpressivewillInevergobackthereagainallnewfacestwoglancingeyesalatticehidIllsingthatforhimtheyremyeyesifhesanythingofapoettwoeyesasdarklybrightaslovesownstararentthosebeautifulwordsaslovesyoungstaritllbeachangetheLordknowstohaveanintelligentpersontotalktoaboutyourselfnotalwayslisteningtohimandBillyPrescottsadandKeyessadandTomtheDevilsadthen，ifanythinggoeswrongintheirbusinesswehavetosufferImsurehesverydistinguishedIdliketomeetamanlikethatGodnotthoseotherruckbesideshesyoungthosefineyoungmenIcouldseedowninMargatestrandbathingplacefromthesideoftherockstandingupinthesunnakedlikeaGodorsomethingandthenplungingintotheseawiththemwhyarentallmenlikethattheredbesomeconsolationforawomanlikethatlovelylittlestatueheboughtIcouldlookathimall-daylongcurlyheadandhisshouldershisfingerupforyoutolistentheresrealbeautyandpoetryforyouIoftenfeltIwantedtokisshimalloveralsohislovelyyoungcocktheresosimplyIwouldntmindtakinghiminmymouthifnobodywaslookingasifitwasaskingyoutosuckitsocleanandwhitehelookedwithhisboyishfaceIwouldtooin1/2aminuteevenifsomeofitwentdownwhatitsonlylikegruelorthedewtheresnodangerbesideshedbesocleancomparedwiththosepigsofmenIsupposeneverdreamofwashingitfrom1yearsendtotheotherthemostofthemonlythatswhatgivesthewomenthemoustachesImsureitllbegrandifIcanonlygetinwithahandsomeyoungpoetatmyageIllthrowthemthe1stthinginthemorningtillIseeifthewishcardcomesoutorIlltrypairingtheladyherselfandseeifhecomesoutIllreadandstudyallIcanfindorlearnabitoffbyheartifIknewwhohelikessohewontthinkmestupidifhethinksallwomenarethesameandIcanteachhimtheotherpartIllmakehimfeelalloverhimtillhehalffaintsundermethenhellwriteaboutmeloverandmistresspubliclytoowithour2photographsinallthepaperswhenhebecomesfamousObutthenwhatamIgoingtodoabouthimthoughnothatsnowayforhimhashenomannersnornorefinementnornonothinginhisnatureslappingusbehindlikethatonmybottombecauseIdidn’tcallhimHughtheignoramusthatdoesntknowpoetryfromacabbagethatswhatyougetfornotkeepingthemintheirproperplacepullingoffhisshoesandtrousersthereonthechairbeforemesobarefacedwithoutevenaskingpermissionandstandingoutthatvulgarwayinthehalfofashirttheyweartobeadmiredlikeapriestorabutcherorthoseoldhypocritesinthetimeofJuliusCaesarofcoursehesrightenoughinhiswaytopassthetimeasajokesureyoumightaswellbeinbedwithwhatwithalionGodImsurehedhavesomethingbettertosayforhimselfanoldLionwouldOwellIsupposeitsbecausetheyweresoplumpandtemptinginmyshortpetticoathecouldntresisttheyexcitemyselfsometimesitswellformenalltheamountofpleasuretheygetoffawomansbodyweresoroundandwhiteforthemalwaysIwishedIwasonemyselfforachangejusttotrywiththatthingtheyhaveswellinguponyousohardandatthesametimesosoftwhenyoutouchitmyuncleJohnhasathinglongIheardthosecornerboyssayingpassingthecornerofMarrowbonelanemyauntMaryhasathinghairybecauseitwasdarkandtheyknewagirlwaspassingitdidntmakemeblushwhyshoulditeitheritsonlynatureandheputshisthinglongintomyauntMaryshairyetceteraandturnsouttobeyouputthehandleinasweepingbrushmenagainallovertheycanpickandchoosewhattheypleaseamarriedwomanorafastwidoworagirlfortheirdifferenttasteslikethosehousesroundbehindIrishstreetnobutweretobealwayschaineduptheyrenotgoingtobechainingmeupnodamnfearonceIstartItellyouforstupidhusbandsjealousywhycantweallremainfriendsoveritinsteadofquarrellingherhusbandfounditoutwhattheydidtogetherwellnaturallyandifhedidcanheundoithescoronadoanywaywhateverhedoesandthenhegoingtotheothermadextremeaboutthewifeinFairTyrantsofcoursethemanneverevencastsa2ndthoughtonthehusbandorwifeeitheritsthewomanhewantsandhegetsherwhatelsewerewegivenallthosedesiresforIdliketoknowIcanthelpitifImyoungstillcanIitsawonderImnotanoldshrivelledhagbeforemytimelivingwithhimsocoldneverembracingmeexceptsometimeswhenhesasleepthewrongendofmenotknowingIsupposewhohehasanymanthatdkissawomansbottomIdthrowmyhatathimafterthathedkissanythingunnaturalwherewehavent1atomofanykindofexpressioninusallofusthesame2lumpsoflardbeforeeverIdothattoamanpfoohthedirtybrutesthemerethoughtisenoughIkissthefeetofyousenoritatheressomesenseinthatdidnthekissourhalldooryeshedidwhatamadmannobodyunderstandshiscrackedideasbutmestillofcourseawomanwantstobeembraced20

timesadayalmosttomakeherlookyoungnomatterbywhosolongastobeinloveorlovedbysomebodyifthefellowyouwantisnttheresometimesbytheLordGodIwasthinkingwouldIgoaroundbythequaystheresomedarkeveningwherenobodydknowmeandpickupasailorofftheseathatdbehotonforitandnotcareapinwhoseIwasonlytodoitoffupinagatesomewhereoroneofthosewildlookinggipsiesinRathfarnhamhadtheircamppitchedneartheBloomfieldlaundrytotryandstealourthingsiftheycouldIonlysentminethereafewtimesforthenamemodellaundrysendingmebackoverandoversomeoldonesoldstockingsthatblackguardlookingfellowwiththefineeyespeelingaswitchattackmeinthedarkandridemeupagainstthewallwithoutawordoramurdereranybodywhattheydothemselvesthefinegentlemenintheirsilkhatsthatKClivesupsomewherethiswaycomingoutofHardwickelanethenighthegaveusthefishsupperonaccountofwinningovertheboxingmatchofcourseitwasformehegaveitIknewhimbyhisgaitersandthewalkandwhenIturnedroundaminuteafterjusttoseetherewasawomanaftercomingoutofittoosomefilthyprostitutethenhegoeshometohiswifeafterthatonlyI

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