His Majesty, who had long been believed to have poor eyesight from a young age, had finally mustered the curiosity to ask what had caused the causeway to become so potholed. Inquiring whether paternoster and silver doctors were no longer popular bait for lobster trapping, the straightforward Harold fearlessly responded, “No, your majesty, I was simply capturing those pesky earwigs.”
Our sailor king, who was drinking from a jug of obvious cider, graciously responded by smiling beneath his large moustache and displaying the somewhat mischievous humor that William the Conch inherited, together with the congenial short-fingeredness, from his great-aunt Sophy.
He turned towards two of his retinue of gallowglasses, Michael, the noble lord of Leix and Offaly, and the ceremonial mayor of Drogheda, Elcock, (the two associates being Michael M. Manning, leader of Waterford, and an Italian excellency named Galilei according to a later version cited by the learned scholar Canavan of Canmakenoise), in either case a religious family symbolizing purity of doctrine, usual business, and the patch of land where the Irish treasures grow, and remarked jokingly:
“Holybones of Saint Hubert, how our red brother of Burgundy would fume did he know that he has for trusty vassal a turnpiker who is also an earwicker..” And he walked with Jom Pill through the gray court and into the house.
Finnegans Wake
On his majesty, who was, or often feigned to be, noticeably longsighted from green youth and had been meaning to inquire what, in effect, had caused yon causeway to be thus potholed, asking substitutionally to be put wise as to whether paternoster and silver doctors were not now more fancied bait for lobstertrapping honest blunt Harom- phreyld answered in no uncertain tones very similarly with a fear- less forehead: Naw, yer maggers, aw war jist a cotchin on thon bluggy earwuggers. Our sailor king, who was draining a gugglet of obvious adamale, gift both and gorban, upon this, ceasing to swallow, smiled most heartily beneath his walrus moustaches and indulging that none too genial humour which William the Conk on the spindle side had inherited with the hereditary whitelock and some shortfingeredness from his greataunt Sophy, turned to- wards two of his retinue of gallowglasses, Michael, etheling lord of Leix and Offaly and the jubilee mayor of Drogheda, Elcock, (the two scatterguns being Michael M. Manning, protosyndic of Waterford and an Italian excellency named Giubilei according to a later version cited by the learned scholarch Canavan of Can- makenoise), in either case a triptychal religious family symbolising puritas of doctrina, business per usuals and the purchypatch of hamlock where the paddish preties grow and remarked dilsydulsily: Holybones of Saint Hubert how our red brother of Pour- ingrainia would audibly fume did he know that we have for sur- trusty bailiwick a turnpiker who is by turns a pikebailer no sel- domer than an earwigger For he kinned Jom Pill with his court
so gray and his haunts in his house in the mourning.
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The Maharajagar 