Keelley

Thet Premble

“Keelley, Keelley, Keelley”, bonked tha highe oll bonkers uh tha oll Cittee Kerke.

“Keelley, Keelley, Keelley,” these bonked an bonked an bonked.

An aye that Keelley themselv whas mergent. That Keelley stepped fram tha one ta tha outher, pecking hir wey outa one hyar unto even one thar. Tha ol’ sular son whas jest at hir zeeny.

“Keelley, Keelley,” bonked tha bonkers, an eye that Keelley did scratchin’ theirself an did yearn a grande yearn and did shak it heed at tha bonk uh the bonkers, an tha which pro-seeded unward to a still.

Ah, naauw alles es quietus.

Nau cometh tha Gentilehomme uh Goldenness, preambuling straightways unto this Keelley whar thy stands, whar thy stands at thet edger uh thuh Citee Squire, midst them as vend orranges an them as vend heirsefs an ich Uther an them as passin thet ywe an thees, an nau tha une Gentilehoome uh Goldenlochs maks thet aye Grace-ful bowing uh Politess, an tha Gentilehomme se quoth som quothin.

“Grateful Day’s-Eye, to thee, fayre won!” quoth thet homme, an tha Keelley (Keelley Keelley Keelley thet is an wuz an willoughby agin) did bende tha storeyed cupidic rose-buds an did tha crinklin o’ hir eye-ens, an wuz mostish gracish in retours.

“Hale ta thee, swit Genteel Homm, an wut nau brays tha selfness ta thees wyse?”

“Wull,” therebegan tha Gulden oon, an then forthwidth stop’ed, as t’wood be for one faceting a rar abyss or a caper o’ oldish elds or eek a septem, a slooth, a rario. Thet warthy alude a sartain quietus to be strechen an extendin an lastin a tyme.

“An ah sey,” replic’d anon thet Keelley (thet onely Keelley thet is or wuz), “ah sey to quire wut nau brays tha selfness ta thilke placa, heer on thilke mast parnicular inst?”

Et thet tim o’ tha Cittee, whan them as vend and pench en theta Squire dyed plus gyrin an’ gimblin’, twaz as tho tha veery breathin tok itsel a pausin.

“Wull,” therebegun tha Gulden ounce amor, arisin e aurous orbs frum up tha earth, “tis onely thet has nowcome tha Day of Yugement, for tha Juging an Bein’ Juged fer even ya, even ye, la Keelley.”

Sangin af thet Jugin

Whan ek cometh jugin-tyde
Whan ek cometh nau
Than ek lee thet ev’ry-fray
Tu ees ev’ry tau.

Fer ek evan jugin-tyde
Az ech tuny knaw,
Than ek ev’ry thet in thee
Hus com ta fenry faw.

Nau lit naut th’ peruser bey thinkin thet thet Jugin, thet Day of Yugement as th’ oll nama saysa, be bein eny Yugement ov th’ mordal estatement or effen ov th’estatement define. Nicht, nichten, nichten en bray, beoff was eet!

Thees jugin es tha oneley trau jugin, tha jugin thet comms e tha cor, tha cour, tha cor-a-zone. Wen thet tha juges, wen thet tha criminates wan an wan uther, than is tha beginnence ov al jugin, al Yugements. Torror Feers ha quoth thet comparin es o-deus, thet en jugin es tha rut ov suffrin, ov awagans, ov torpir an ov awlastrayt an pounsa. Alla pounsa es echt, nicht tu fachet, na mana. En th’ aviary jugin outword, weuns en fect air allus jugin onely tha Shelf.

Nau ar we calld tow envis, tow inmagin, tow pitcher pitcher thet Keelley, thet Keelley jugin an’ bein juged, lung agow en edges pabst, lung en auld lang syne ‘m dear. En auld lang syne.

Thet aulde tome ov tha roundicules spekin bout playin betwext an’ pretween tha thees an’ tha thoos fera tha oncet occasioun, tha firstest tyme as t’wer, fer longe an longe ahges ov mennen an fraye an connipowers. Aye thet is onely thet tome.

For trau, thees hyar duoverse entyre, tha holeness ov thees cosmock cosmoss, waz braut tow sistance a onely onely singletime blorin’, n thet singletime actio whan tha Keelley (Keelley Keelley Keelley ov th’ clutterin jutterin apartamento oversightin thet Cittee Squore, thet noonish) fer tha firstest and onlyest tyme eevar, disstantiated oun THEES fum oun THET an’ n thet singletime wif thet singlethot poom mad it alle tow bey. Hale tha Keelley, for trau.

E nau, quoth tha Gulden Ooon, fer a nex tyme has ecomin oon Day of Yugement, for tha Juging an Bein’ Juged fer even ir, even air, even la Keelley. Mai hau, hau canner tis bey? Whale ewe mite pre askin.

Som Oonseelley

Bein nau thau imaginatin, ov oon darkenate an’ ruinate crumble ov steen alle sette n som highe drakness fer abover sum thrashin watersea, an imaginatin th’ scrowling winders ov thet crumble, thet cestle-crumple, wif ya fronin don and ya scowlin oer.

An’ bein nae thau envisin som sloopae goloopae suckerin swampoo, som losten an feveren marshyground whereat th’ wilds o’ th’ whips gho allurilin unwearty travleronos untow efen mostest moistest an’ aye suckerin dhooms, alle adoun n thet boogy boogy due, amongtsa tha bubblins vapirs an tha glinstenin boneos.

An’ fer thrid than, bein nae enpicturin en tha heded, en tha bristlin mined, sum o’ thoos tunnelguns fair beneth th’ ol ol Eart, fer doun n thet moisty darksy ollasoil, wif en wumris an en grubbses an en losten cavernens, wherat nothin o’ lighte hasen commen fer th’ longe longe tenages.

Hear sum ov th’ bad-uns, thems whet quoth, “Heh an heh, weuns em bad-uns, en we-uns fain tha doin bad, an tha doin ille, an tha evile an paine an sufretin, heh heh!” Thems es as bad-uns thet wd lurke en thet sloopin sukerin mire-o-quag, alyin en weighte fer thet unweary travelgabs, an eke assalterin an abanditin an atakin ov them richess.

Theeses ar um smalle blobes en forme, a-glourpin an’ a-squelchin en tha darkinet cornerpocks, an’ morely flyin oot untrinly upun th queros takin marmer slopoloens. Thees bad-uns air frum oot th’ distinganging ov thet Keelley, asa mey weuns alle, muckta wif ta merrows, wifout an wifing muckly redrag.

Aswellit, bein tau imaginatin eekso thees crumly tumly bad-uns ef commen outa thet vazty unknowen stances o’ tha widelyest Cosmoss, outa thet alienic farawise, thet vileauts ov mageness, ov outvinness, ov mind-stenchin ootherenesse. Thees bad-uns! Wif tha oolky-doon an tha scloot machinerives, tha curroskatin stare-eyens an tha grande grande tool-sheeps o’ tha ootermast splaces. Whet pleans an countercontemps thees bad-uns ov al mayen haven, wo mertel canna saye, an eek they Keelley (Keelley Keelley, la Keelley) bein nicht a-spoutin.

Mais than nau bein imaginatin, nat nau asa fere doun beneethlow thoos stretts an thoos e-venlues ov tha Greet Cittee, bitte jest onne flounil, ast’were, jest bellow tha foot-feet ov tham as go hyar an thar aboot tha busyness ov tyme. Adoun n tham shaller warrows, ther air ov th’ bad-uns whithe quothe en softlyer and gracelier quothin.

“Tha Keelley,” bein quothin thees, “Tha Keelley, Keelley, Keelley thet a-deed thet Onely Acte, thet a-made thet Orgonal Spin, thet bornaroun cleftin, thet splitin o tha ONE frame tha UTHER, tha Keelley nis nat namore tha Onely Agente een thees Cosomock! Hyar thar ar alelo WEI! WEI hoo arm dissit, wei hoo arm pelandry, wei hoo arm JEST as werthy o tha gliry an tha preeminuse an tha flwein joi ass evar es ar werre tha Keelley. We-uns, wei, demandin onely THA JUST-ICE, an tha tha tha eke wei challers halves!”

Sou, thees Oonseelley, wif hir namas an eek hir formes an nat-hers an demandins, hir hill an hir loweness alvions wit ambitiones. Hyar an thar, tham.

Und nau, theh mey bray askin, und nau whet ov thet Gentile Homme, thet Homme ov richte Guldenflocks, wif eir glutters en effen eir charleypons, whiffel ov thet Homme an thees Oonseelley? Isk richte, theh mey brey askin, thet thet oon varrow Homme bein fer trau effen eine bad-un eirselve? Er bein effen eine Oonseelley, onternethen alla thet Goaldy an thet Fellowberran? Fer apparentes eek allus bein ov thet dee-seat, wat issa leedin doun an’ daun.

Thet, antoo menai menai moores, wey willin vist.

Proachin Draknees Twer

“Harhoo, harhoo, harhoo,” awhisped an ashoutened thoos blowins, ana “Keelley, Keelley, Keelley,” intercuted thoos undertwan whipperins en tha cresavvas ov tha mountane.

Hier, allus und sandary, weir ar en presentin thet Gentilhomme ov Guldennesse, wich werethy iz et thet onely timly unter questionne engajed en proachin tha oon dreed kestle, tha trau kesle allen bounden wich thoos draknest mountanities, allen rouff an rouneck, allen hyd en thoos highlee hites.

Thilke, the bein, thet vary Kestle ov tha Alianess, tha conglom o’ toupilies es em common fram tha emptynoiss o’ tha dreaknessest an vastnessest spacelik oot beyoond tha milkiest starts.

“Harhooo,” quothinen thet winden acrosst thet ruffish wasta placa, “Harhooo, Keelley, Shash-Shash.”

Thet Homme Gentilette, awrapted alle en auricol clothin athrward tha terry terry colds o’ thet mounymountan ranjeh, sturrgled raptily hupword, mintamind seht an determinanteed uphon heir Gool.

Thoos Alianess frim beyoond tha stairs hey commen t’ thees nearnesses wa-beck n tha gloamin, wen n tha Instans ov Instanness tha Keelley hazen machen thet First Jugin, fallin lack tow eine pullypugg en firelike brennin meteorics doun an’ doun t’ th’ kestle thet crowchin somhow asif twere jes awading fer thet sosuddin descant.

Borgligan ar thoos wans fram oot tha Grey Be-Onde!

Borgligan wif marroo an wif flad, wif stutterbing laffworts an Greet Flithy Nambusae!

Borgligan them ar wif thots an’ idears an’ effentoads be-onde tha eny ken ov Hommes, ar ov Humes, ar ov eny kennin upin thees Eartheplaca. Nat in-same, mais effin ooterside th’ reelm ov samity n-tire!

An’ thet eek tha wery Kestle her proachin wif es naw thet oon Gentilhomme ov tha Goldin, thet oneytime thet weuns enow a-scribin’.

Thet vary aire seemin t’ resistin eir frowardly processin, az it war vancin an vancin stoop par stoop upen tha steepish an’ torcherous slipaslopes.

“Hoff,” thet Gold-un hoffered, “Hoff an’ tennesense.” Hau longue, ta winders te taself, hau longue an’ to hwat ende alle thees sturrglin, effter allus?

Ee-in jest as im sprechin thees sprech te taselfin, ther camme thruh thet sloftish aire ang shlimmer, ang shlimmer lak ang tookalla spennashim, ther an tha huffwisp, unter tha kestle drakish.

Im pausin duren onely an inst, thet Gentilehomme filt offa suthern emselv sorted alle aboote wif thinkins, wif telligences byond beying, byond an byunder understaring. An’ tha wer, em filt, tha wer allus evry oon lookin an’ peppin a em, wif intents.

“End arro,” comen eina voca.

“End arro, we ar seein nau eine Homme ov Eartteplaca,” comen azo eina voca, astho outta thet aire isself. Eina voca liek unto no voca ov enywelk hir hav evar herden priore.

“Hoff,” thet Gold-un than hoffered, an’ quothed, “Ay, ay am comin thilke placa fer havin woerden wif thoos az habitin thet twer ov drakness, fer tha mutuel benefice.”

“End arro,” comen thet voca straunge, wif carryin sum ov laffin an som ov threatin, sue t’maka tha sange runnin colde en tha vessels.

“End arro, wein am thet, an’ enow wein am nostraunen fer aye wha mutuel benefice cud thar beyin twixt sech ez yau an’ sech az oos.”

An ther theen becomin ta thet Gentilest Homme eine gree swerlin an gree confusin an rouslin, an souternly hay es fond esself as twere aflotin en oon gree spaca, oona gree grees voyod wherein ther bein noght elles bet fer oon oother, oon moost straunge an moost unkenned bein whet av.

“We arra knowin ov yer arrand, Homme ov Earttaplaca,” thees bein than quothed, “an’ we arra knowin wif whoms voca yau arra sprekin. En we arra askin, ay, forwhy wud weuns ov thilke placa be alignin wif yau, an wif thoos who arra sendin yau thilkewards?”

Thees wer comin aye plussen strayter ta tha pint ov eet, thahn thet Homme Gentille hadde bin exticipatin, an eek thahn eet wuda preferenct.

“Wul,” repleed tha Homme, “wul nau thet shud bein clair, iffen th’knowst trau tham fram whouns y amme comme, innit? Certaine interestins ther arra que alle weuns amme havin inne comman, eye?”

Theta voyde stended offa infinin inta alle wayes, est an weest an noorth an sooth, an en alle wuz it onely vaste et vacante.

Than ther commen to em eine feelin moost unfelte, az ov laughin an az ov scremin, an thete oon oother bey quothin as twer twai diff quoths et oonce.

“Nay nay Earte Homme,” quoth oon quothin, “ther ar no interestins en comman twixt oos an thou, ther cannon nevar bee.”

An yette comm th’ oother quothin somhow en thet samme instanter, quothin, “Aye, moost Auroos Gentilehomme ov Earte, we-uns ara kennin thees interestins ov hoo thou arra spekin, an’ we-uns arra ov agreein wif yer spek.”

Nau iz thet Homme alla twistin en tha minde, an’ bein replyin, “Hoold, hoold, yau ther togather en thees voyde, wherfor arra yau of spekin wif twain vocca en oon? Tha iz noot ov sensenesse.”

Nau ther is en thet gree voyde onely stillnesse.

“Bea spekin an answerin, yau!” insisten thet Homme, “Ar yau trau ov thet gree Drakness Twer, er non?”

An agin t’th dismae o’ thet fayre Homme ther bein comin voccae twaine in oon.

“Nay, Homme, thilke ferme bein onely oon observorator lik unto yauselv, bein eine threed partay en th’ comman interestins o alle,” quoth oon vocca.

Ah, “Aye, Erte-bein, yo am heer un projectionate ov tham of thet Twer, un projectionate partiale, ov a sizin fer spekin wif verbats madde speciel fer yer understannin, yer comps.”

Atte thees moos bafflin quothin thet Homme cud onely chertle.

“Een ees nat me comps, fer t’bey quothin tha pare o’ contra-dicta! Forwhich arra trau? Iz thet yar am bein twain milliminds en oon corpi?”

“Aye an’ nay, nay an’ aye, eye thau, troo trau,” comms nau replyin voccas twain, spekin as oon. “Wat issa trau? Thinke yau hav comps effen tha moost minusmalle ov eny wit wat issa trau? Nay, nay an’ aye! Thet net tha plorrin ov’ thilke voyde wif paraben.”

Thet Homme alle glowin wif Guld, aflotin en thet gree Voyde, iz nau littin oot oon sighe lik oone futterance. An et thet sighin ther cam offa suthen inta thet voyde ah feelin az ov a gree gree laffin, lik thet laffin ov oon gree auld Giante ov Erte.

“Ah, Homme ov Erte,” cam thin ah singleter oon vocca, “weuns arra s’ veery pleasin o’ yau, wif yer groanin an wif yer sighitatin! Yau o’ thif smalle Erte ar ov th’ moost cararellin, th’ moost droll.”

An’ thet Pleeny Homme dide breth oon breth moost deppideep, an reflectered ta isself thet enyway, enyrat, th’ spekin an negotoratin wif th’ follerin triboos efter tham starlienz ov Drakness Twer, wud onely bey moone, mooche, sampler.

Thet Keelley

Weins sangin allus tha sang o’ Thet Keelley!

Soo, thet sang.

Wheras, wat oover es La Keelley? Wat iz thet seetin ov kennin, thet canter ov consciessin, thet croox ov tha sool?

Heer issa Keelley wifa greet yaunin. Heer issa Keelley abuyin tha delli pauper (eena forma pauperis, az meybe). Az weuns sangin tha sang o’ Thet Keelley, arra wei alzo kennin thet Keelley aworkin en tha puzz o’ wordens hoo crossin? Thet Keelley anibblin th’ netherend o’ tah inkpen? Doos meer thots o’ thet, THET, Keelley abringin thoos weepers ta yer eyebuds? Wall thee mite!

Heer issa puzzlin abut the Keelley (wat waz an wat iz an wat willoughby fer aye): iffen alle iz bein withinin thet Keelley, thet imaginin, thet kennin, than wilt hir perisse fer onelinesse? Wilt hir bey onley fer affer after beriftin o’ th’ loov o’ Thet Oother?

Iffen, az somme arra sayin en quietist vocca, La Keelley wuz makin thet Frist Jugin forto branga ende t’ thet onelinesse, thanne, iffen thet bey trau, wat culd comme fromme eine Secundo Jugin? Wat, indae, ensuin oofa oon Creatin Subsequin Creatin? Tis unakenna, aya, fer trau.

Wee seein nau thet Gentilhomme ov Guldersleeve, astandin et tha edger o’ thet Cittee Squore, jes biffor themme highe ole bonkers commerct ta bonk (an’ bonk an’ bonk an’ bonk), awaytin th’emerg o’ thet oon Keelley. Wat am it thotin ov, astandin thilke placa? Wat sprins em an motters em, wat crayin jonk?

Ehr haz ben ta thet Drakness Kestle. Ehr haz plivotad thru thet murkyswup ov th’ Willas, sluggin thru thet muddle an thet honted weteness, aseekin thoos blobber baduns. Frimma th’ torchney burras unterneeth tha Greet Cittee, deaspatchet per thamma oons ther, agatherin an’ afesterin alla th’ bland ambitios anna oonseelley desirs o’ tham az wotcheda.

Thema oons o’ vilenesse an’ ille ontent arra welcomin eny ideare o’ Rawe Kaosez. En theer hovveles thee hav onely exultad et th’ effen thot.

Thema oonseelley farra delwed inta th’ eerthy eerth ov’ Erta, sloopin wif thoos wurmis, effen thoos arra kennin ov’ tha Sang o’ Thet Keelley, an arra sangin em wif theer deepesquerms. Thema untraken cawernes doun doun doun unterall, hav glemmen memmens, havan recollectins, ov dep an’ fraganton eeras, ov thet Frist Jugin, ov thoos Seceretest Placcas.

La Keelley, La Keelley, Keelley, Keelley, deed separatin thet oop frim thet doun, thet drie doo thet wette, thet galp ta thet trappen. Wat flavers thanne setteelt fer fer bellow, fer en thet moystin, thet dem, thet reech an’ pungette. Dow thay wisin thut thay wer hoigh nat than lough? Dree than wetteesh? Doss oon wurum kennin o’ tha starrets an’ affer sie?

Wat thoosuns aspek ta thet GoldHomme, es unkennoben. Yit har thet Homm astand, jus et thet edger, jus arwaitin thet Keelley.

En thoo deepsa thet priore nichte, en thet espertamente beheth tha skydrak beheth thoos samme starins, wat ov dreems undeed camme inta tha veery heede o’ thet Keelley eirselv, amma alzo unkennoben. Thet Keelley bein movin en hir sleps, bein bendin hir liralims, bein sloughin. Thet chauser ov tha Firstest Chaus, thet juge ov tha Originen Jugin, sleps aye wif closted eyens an slosseted musculae, alla fremtin.

Letusen vissa nau thet Keelley az waas, een bifortym, biforen thet Firstest Moom. Inna monde wherin noo fing hassa blin diffatantated fraum noo fing ooder, wherin alle iz en alle an’ alle es en oon, wat amma kennin ov effen La Keelley?

La Keelley (Keelley Keelley Keelley) mayen bein athword, coursin wif joyouze crosst them feelds o’ greems, thet windoo windin en hir hay-re, an; yet! Iffen biforre thet Firstest Jugin, them feelds an’ thet windoo an’ efairy bloid o’ grassen, o’ wheeten, wat trikkles tham slom ankelets ov thet moost faiyre rooner, an effen thet Keelley eirselv, arra alle feff samme, alla onely Oon Thang, oonely thiffis Oone Minde, iffa ville.

Paradizo, nau yau meya cogn. Paradizo indoud.

Buthey, whuffis fafter ebber en Paradizo, iffen allatime aloonely?

Thet Joyorouser Keelley, didda ita kennn her oun loonelinesse? Pobbisle effen es ta, tau kenna trau eny stat wen hir na kenna effen hirshelv? Onchonklin.

Anna hier essa la Miraculae ovla Keelley. Noon kennin hershelv, noon effen existin pear-shae, effenzo La Keelley havin somhoo makin’d thet jugin, wher thar hadde nevair bin noon o’ jugin biffer. Somhoo theyun az retched oot awif hir minde, hir cour, hir solus, an’ az wif thet oon jugin, thet Yugement, thet partitenin offa tha Oon Minde inta THET and THEES fer la trau Firstest Tyme, theyun az braught inta bein effery wun an’ alle ov thees Ten-towseled Fings.

Alla halla La Keelley!

Ansoo, wat war than tha veery momont ov thet Fristist Jugin? Biffer enyfing cuda ben quothed, fer ah lackin ov finges separt fer the quothin aboot, hau-a cud ther bey eny? Wat minde, wat sperl, wat simmerin sole wif wha gree hearta, wha gree grundin en thilke Earte, wha gree warnees retchin outta thoos heigh stairs?

Thas, lo, La Keelley!

Thet Jugin hafth, terridon, bin guven ina momentoo ov, tau sayin trau, moost ertlay painem. Tinkstou ov bred yupon ye Toung, ov shrepy splinteers yifin ya Fangers, ov ruffnesse wif glavel oonter ya Footes. Paine et painem, joie et anstem, bool et carroe.

En tha bristin ov paine yunto tha Minde o’ thet Keelley, ther than cammen eine gree NOOT! Et az wher ther cammen eine NOOT, ther commenen alzo wif YEAA! Cascadelik efter noot an yeaa, ther commen untau th’ gree werld wish wash alle oo, suthern anna brekin towo SHELVE an’ varsus OOTHER, towo HYAR an’ varsus THAR, ilke CLOOS an’ AWHEY, an’ am funderd, am crousand, am ballions o’ moreoso.

Yon Fenry Faw

Assa thet sanga sayin, “Than ek ev’ry thet in thee / Hus com ta fenry faw.”

Nau El GentileHomme Goldashell hasse fer trau leded La Keelley acorst o’ tha Aulde Cittte, threw hir mostens an’ binnas, threw thoos lazymazy twistylanes, oop hyar an’ doun thar, effen tou thoos edgers ov thet Cittee hirselv, tow thet greet greeny sleeny appato wat iza Fenry Faw.

Fenry Faw, whereat thees sangas sangin thet ferry Frist Jugin atook hir placa, an’ alle thees worgle wuz becalm.

Fenry Faw, hiden wif foxen an’ sit aboot wif arrals o’ mutydear an’ boyoscoots. Hir logotrees arra reching fer tha heigh skeigh, arufflin wif greenywind an’ ascentin o’ elde. Hir strims an’ eek hir creekybeds flaw wich sparklnoys an wich coolthes. Inna shadwoards slip thoos wisenest wols an’ thoos battiest flicabats. Nay oon, sayin alle, effar commen ta Fenry Faw wif commen awa unchaiged.

Heer es thet Gentilehomme, allus en gulden, hir cloths an’ shods, hir strollin stiek an’ oon looge strack hatte, ashimmer an’ adroppin wiffen aurus rayens inna Solir Sonne. Heer ataghin effter commes La Keelley, afloot thrau thet aire, astep efften astep, lookin wif hir orbens et thees an’ thoos an’ tham, hir visagae fulsom o’ joie an’ chorius an’ dlite.

“Ol’ Fenry Faw hirselv,” quothes La Keelley (Keelley Keelley Keelley, sang thoos sangins), inna softish vocca, asin tau eirselv, brethin dip o’ thet erty heir. “Bin har en aiges,” il quoth. An eek than, commen followin arfter th Guldoon t’ th’ midplaca ov thet Faw, dideen hir eyenorbs mak widden fer oon slight.

Fore nau es commen ta Fenry Faw alreedy alle them Oonseelly hirselv, githered en thee placa, asquirmin oop fram th’ mickle thlickle earte, aslimin ther fram oot th’ grimydamps, aridin ther fram thet ol’ Cittee warrows atopin thoos motorbiklette, an eek effen spoolin unkenhow doun fram ta Drakness Twer, ta haverin haverin moost charildlin thwert th’ wrest.

Ai moore them jest thoos ov th’Oonseelly, mays alzo thoos ov am cundred ootherplans, alla brighte tow bein en thet blighte clighte daykay ov th’ Firstest Jugin, eek naw alle githered heer ta sey wat mey bey sayed.

La Keelley (forwho es commen effen fer aye) isna makin wif smalle sounde, an’ issa bendin adoun wif armes an gracey handes alle outsretched, asif zo ta enbraceture effery ilke ov thet gree an’ cramorous croawde ther inna Faw. An someas sweyd forard an someas drewen backaway, tords an agin them moos tended armes. An allthrew thet crawded camme akle softe clemourin.

“Keelley, Keelley, Keeley,” flawed una vocca suffussin alle thet hair, fram ladoun ta elup, lowe ta heigh, hether ta yown. Nat fram ah bein soulo, ek fram alle beins en oon, wif alzo agin eech indivuwill. Therbein tham sharpys an eek them safties, thoos wif wingers an’ thoos wif clem, te clepper oones sette righte bye te famid oones, wif scryins an’ plaperins, wif dinke an’ clawe, alles en thilke placa herebifor hir Makkair.

Nau ther iz stooping forard oon aheed tha reste. Oon wat iz sloop an’ skinly, oon wat az eir commes soppresses nay wifout leffort eir owne sangin o’ Keelley, wat en fect sow roises ika vocca az tau desropt an disfend thet sangin, thet softish Keelley Keelley Keelleyin. End thet onn bein revelled az thet onely Sliboon, Heighe Grandystek ov th’ Clandehoode.

La Keelley astandin alle upride, irregardes thet Sliboon hoo advancin wif sa visager toats sereuse, an thet Keelley irregardes hir wif oon pression mixt ov fontenesse an’ ov wanderin.

“Ya hau esse klepte La Keelley,” thet skinnix wethai agramblin laud, “kenne thet ya hiv bein braut tau hyar fer eine Day ov Yugement, wer Jugin an’ bein Juged. Aye effen yau, effen thet oon eklepte La Keelley willough bey havin juged accordin’, accordin’ par USEN!’

An’ hear La Keelley iz makin th’ graciesty courtesyin, atiltin ther comelyfacca doun perinhap tow hidin ein smilin ov thoos pinkalips, a crinklin ov thoos eyepointes.

“Ol’ Sliboon,” es quothin La Keelley (Keelley, Keelley Keelley, continuin thet saftest sang een nau en the beck), “Ol’ Sliboon, halle ap welle melt! Hau tis awit tie an’ awit tine? Hau iz tie visdomme?”

“Oon klept Keelley!” repetes el Grandystek, alle clade en thikke leether, “loung havve y an’ myna asoofed unger tha panes ov INYUSTIS! Loung havve weuns set athralled par la marmur, la feth, la andlees sange ov yau et sooly yau. Weuns sek onely HOUR DEW!”

La Keelley en thet placca an’ thet inst, makin nau replet, ther settlis eine moom o stillenesse en Fenry Faw, amoon th’ flawing waws an’ banketin eir.

“Sew,” asayin La Keelley, wif astretchin hir beck anna shulders, “sew lettus sange thene oon Sange fer th’ Clandehoode.”

Aye quikern eny cud reponde, thet Keelley ov th’ sanges gune sangin thoos:

Hebly tokka Clandehoode,
Eppa thet Sliboon!
Tak thee narrow whan eet shood,
Fallow thet Sliboon!

Iffen sangen Terpitide,
Grandystek Sliboon,
Than gliry al’ t’ Clandehoode,
Aye thet shure Sliboon!

Atta thees thera camma oon cheerin ana hootin fram owt thet croawde ther en tha Faw, assa thees Sange Newview passet fram oon tau oon oother, an’ minny th’ obleft wa tossenen ta tha eir. “Thet Sliboon!” camma thilke crees ov tham Clandehoode, an’ eke “Tham Clandehoode!” effen canna thilke oothers ov thoos crundeds.

Anyeet som fiu, annec thet Sliboon itselv, az wuza nay cheerin ner hexultin, mey onely standin wif grimme spressiouns, asof swer eairs agaterin aboot em, an’ frim theese fiu ther aspreed aya silencio ten grimme, an’ affen lanna tima, camma agin ein stillenesse.

“Nay”, nau quothe thet Sliboon, aya froma som fiu ov thoos ov Drakness an’ thet Stairs camma alzo thet “Nay”.

Tha Keelley hyar blinkened.

“Nay,” camma thet Nay egine, “grata thau, may nay. Titis nay onely pa lackin en eine simgle sange thet hess braut usen alle hyarnow. Eine simgle sange, whoefar grase, iz nat tha Yugement!”

“Anwat,” quoth La Keelley eirselv, ir footes upan tha Erte, ir heed upan tha Eire, “wat iz ty an’ tyne ayernin en thees Yugement?”

“La Jugin!” camma vocca oot thet assenblag, “Aye, La Jugin, an’ eke la bein Juged!” camma moar de tha fikkle blag, “La Being Juged! La Keelley shell bein Juged!”

Ov Tha Jugin

Nau thet Keelley (Keelley Keelly Keelley, fram hau strings alle gut an’ bade, alla wich er jest an’ ingest) issa turnin eek ta thet oon GentileHomme o’ Goldenfleece, an’ iz makin thees enquire.

“Sew, dearpeach Gentilehoome, es eet trau commeh ta theesa? Alla thees an’ tham, alla tham an’ effen yau, arra yarnin fer somme jugin, kennin thet iffen thay meybe juged, than thet thay willenbey appertenained ta doa fer heir oon, som jugin? An’ fer partick, som jugin ov thees heer, ov effen eye?”

Atta thees quothin, thet onoured Gentilhomme fercolored, an’ opon eir visage camma ah flooshed an’ ah blushin, an’ thet werthy deed bowen doun thet heed wif alle eir Golled.

“Aye,” eir es replin simpole, “sooche tis”.

“Wethen,” quoth thet Keelley, “thissa than issa tyme fer jugin! Bey eech presentin allaselv!”

Nau echa knabe bein lookin oon ta toother, az t’ seemin ka thees aspektin ov tha protess hasna okerred ta alla priore, en whatsumeffer petails.

“Kimon, kimon,” quoth thet Keelley nau wif eine grene, “Dee oon liddle deence, sange oon liddle sange, dew somme showin offa, tau bein juged par!”

Slawly mey wif grawin enthus, an fiu aye than menny en thet Faw blegan o’ sangin an’ o’ gracy postarin, an’ o’ variment miners o’ calibaticery an’ sonnin. Somme drewen curlicks an’ nicketies frum ootta panniers an’ plucksacks, poortin’ wif vittels an’ quaff, an’ aforen lange et elle, ther wuz thar en thet Fentry Faw eine righte goode festivin.

“Huzzeh!” chiered thet Keelley, an “Hazzuh!” fleered tha moost o’ tha crowdad. Deefa carpered wif temor, an’ fleck wif chorm, an’ feelin wuz alla tastycane an’ blant porrillin. Effen thet Heighe Grandystek wassa sceen proformin tarryick feits o’ leger-o-hande, an’ tha unkennon alients skatered allabout wif straunge eek dlitefeel all-y-en lightvays. La visager o’ thet veery Keelley wass befelten wif aye joie innocuent lik anto une infante pura aplying wif eir favomite playens.

Twas eine festivin fer aye.

Appara el interfall loung nay bref, fulla alla menner fangs an’ quoneths, ther camme kettin threw thet festivius heir eine vocca puls arburpt.

“AN NAU,” quothet thet vocca, “NAU AYE THA JUGIN.”

Trened offery aye en tha Faw t’ th’ sirce ov cet vocca, t’ finde nay thet Sliboon, Heighe Grandystek ov th’ Clandehoode, bat roger eine glommygroy perfellin, oon key nau wite cud reck intire, ner cud queet placa en thet tail o’ tims.

Wif oon smil an’ oon bowin, thet Keelley pluricaten tovard thees moost laud quother, an’ quothed ow retours.

“Yau an’ yau haven fer cartain shewen alla yerselv queet ansomely, an’ wif festivin festals,” quoth La Keelley, “eek alla hyar issa grite dlite. Accordin, heara commmy gree consideratin, an’ tau foller shell bey tha jugin.”

La Keelley (Keelley, Keelley, Keelley, ov wat th’ ol’ bonkers aff bonk’t), steed oop wif stritenesse, an’ pat tha hande opto tha cheen, in consideratin’.

“Hmm,” eir wassa quothin, an’ “lessee.” Alla threw thet Fenry Faw eles wass stillenesse.

Than, az effy hear an effy eyen an effy straunge orgone o’ sensei en thet Faw dig bendin isself t’ tention, deed that Keelley spek:

“Nih,” la spek wif an chuck, “canna juge, yaller everyoon perfegit. Ima luves ya alles. Alzo, eya gotta getua fang, sowaym aut. Layters!”

An’ La Keelley wif a winken wass agon, leffen behond onely astoonimend, an’ dlite, an’ th’ feffle ov hir luve.