Martin Eden Ch 17 p172

Paul Stought

May 30

invitations and awing the barkeeper, an effeminate country youngster with watery blue eyes and hair parted in the middle.	invutaeshunz and au.ing dhu borkypur, an ifemunut kuntry yungstur with wotury bloo iez and her portud in dhu midul.
"It's something scandalous the way they work us poor devils," Joe was remarking. "If I didn't bowl up, I'd break loose an' burn down the shebang. My bowlin' up is all that saves 'em, I can tell you that."	"It's sumthing skandulus dhu wae dhae wurk us paur devulz," Joe wuz rimorking. "If Ie didn't boel up, Ie'd braek loos an' burn doun dhu shibang. Mie boelin' up iz aul dhat saevz 'um, Ie kan tel ue dhat."
But Martin made no answer. A few more drinks, and in his brain he felt the maggots of intoxication beginning to crawl. Ah, it was living, the first breath of life he had breathed in three weeks. His dreams came back to him. Fancy came out of the darkened room and lured him on, a thing of flaming brightness. His mirror of vision was silver-clear, a flashing, dazzling palimpsest of imagery. Wonder and beauty walked with him, hand in hand, and all power was his. He tried to tell it to Joe, but Joe had visions of his own, infallible schemes whereby he would escape the slavery of laundry-work and become himself the owner of a great steam laundry.	But Mortun maed noe ansur. U fue maur dringks, and in hiz braen hy felt dhu maguts uv intoksikaeshun bigining too kraul. O, it wuz living, dhu furst breth uv lief hy had brydhd in thry wyks. Hiz drymz kaem bak too him. Fansy kaem out uv dhu dorkund room and lwrd him on, u thing uv flaeming brietnus. Hiz mirur uv vizhun wuz silvur-klir, u flashing, dazuling palumpsest uv imijury. Wundur and buety waulkd with him, hand in hand, and aul pour wuz hiz. Hy tried too tel it too Joe, but Joe had vizhunz uv hiz oen, infalubul skymz wherbie hy wwd eskaep dhu slaevury uv laundry-wurk and bikum himself dhy oenur uv u graet stym laundry.
"I tell yeh, Mart, they won't be no kids workin' in my laundry—not on yer life. An' they won't be no workin' a livin' soul after six P.M. You hear me talk! They'll be machinery enough an' hands enough to do it all in decent workin' hours, an' Mart, s'help me, I'll make yeh superintendent of the shebang—the whole of it, all of it. Now here's the scheme. I get on the water-wagon an' save my money for two years—save an' then—"	"Ie tel ye, Mort, dhae woent by noe kidz wurkin' in mie laundry—not on yur lief. An' dhae woent by noe wurkin' u livun' soel aftur siks P.M. Ue hir my taulk! Dhae'l by mushynury inuf an' handz inuf too doo it aul in dysunt wurkun' ourz, an' Mort, s'help my, Ie'l maek ye soopurintendunt uv dhu shibang—dhu hoel uv it, aul uv it. Nou hir'z dhu skym. Ie get on dhu wotur-wagun an' saev mie muny faur too yirz—saev an' dhen—"
But Martin turned away, leaving him to tell it to the barkeeper, until that worthy was called away to furnish drinks to two farmers who, coming in, accepted Martin's invitation. Martin dispensed royal largess, inviting everybody up, farm-hands, a stableman, and the gardener's assistant from the hotel, the barkeeper, and the furtive hobo who slid in like a shadow and like a shadow hovered at the end of the bar.	But Mortun turnd uwae, lyving him too tel it too dhu borkypur, until dhat wurdhy wuz kauld uwae too furnish dringks too too formurz hoo, kuming in, akseptud Mortun'z invutaeshun. Mortun dispensd roil lorjes, invieting evrybody up, form-handz, u staebulmun, and dhu gordunur'z usistunt frum dhu hoetel, dhu borkypur, and dhu furtiv hoeboe hoo slid in liek u shadoe and liek u shadoe huvurd at dhy end uv dhu bor.
172a	172a
Martin Eden Martin Eden Intro