u10_wandering_rocks.xml

<div type="episode" n="10">
<div type="section" n="1"><p><lb n="100001"/>The superior, the very reverend John Conmee S. J. reset his smooth
<lb n="100002"/>watch in his interior pocket as he came down the presbytery steps. <said who="jc" aloud="false">Five to
<lb n="100003"/>three. Just nice time to walk to Artane. What was that boy's name again?
<lb n="100004"/>Dignam. Yes. <foreign xml:lang="la">Vere dignum et iustum est.</foreign> Brother Swan was the person to
<lb n="100005"/>see. Mr Cunningham's letter. Yes. Oblige him, if possible. Good practical
  <lb n="100006"/>catholic: useful at mission time.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100007"/>A <distinct type="compound">onelegged</distinct> sailor, swinging himself onward by lazy jerks of his
<lb n="100008"/>crutches, growled some notes. He jerked short before the convent of the
<lb n="100009"/>sisters of charity and held out a peaked cap for alms towards the very
<lb n="100010"/>reverend John Conmee S. J. Father Conmee blessed him in the sun for his
<lb n="100011"/>purse held, he knew, one silver crown.</p>
<p><lb n="100012"/>Father Conmee crossed to Mountjoy square. He thought, but not for
<lb n="100013"/>long, of soldiers and sailors, whose legs had been shot off by cannonballs,
<lb n="100014"/>ending their days in some pauper ward, and of cardinal Wolsey's words: <said who="tw" direct="false" rend="italics">If
<lb n="100015"/>I had served my God as I have served my king He would not have
<lb n="100016"/>abandoned me in my old days</said>. He walked by the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">treeshade</distinct> of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sunnywinking</distinct>
<lb n="100017"/>leaves: and towards him came the wife of Mr David Sheehy M. P.
<lb n="100018"/><said who="esy">―Very well, indeed, father. And you, father?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100019"/>Father Conmee was wonderfully well indeed. He would go to Buxton
<lb n="100020"/>probably for the waters. And her boys, were they getting on well at
<lb n="100021"/>Belvedere? Was that so? Father Conmee was very glad indeed to hear that.
<lb n="100022"/>And Mr Sheehy himself? Still in London. The house was still sitting, to be
<lb n="100023"/>sure it was. Beautiful weather it was, delightful indeed. Yes, it was very
<lb n="100024"/>probable that Father Bernard Vaughan would come again to preach. O,
  <lb n="100025"/>yes: a very great success. A wonderful man really.</p>
<p><lb n="100026"/>Father Conmee was very glad to see the wife of Mr David Sheehy
<lb n="100027"/>M. P. looking so well and he begged to be remembered to Mr David Sheehy
<lb n="100028"/>M. P. Yes, he would certainly call.
<lb n="100029"/><said who="jc">―Good afternoon, Mrs Sheehy.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100030"/>Father Conmee doffed his silk hat and smiled, as he took leave, at the
  <lb n="100031"/>jet beads of her mantilla <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">inkshining</distinct> in the sun. And smiled yet again, in
<lb n="100032"/>going. He had cleaned his teeth, he knew, with <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">arecanut</distinct> paste.</p>
<p><lb n="100033"/>Father Conmee walked and, walking, smiled for he thought on Father
<lb n="100034"/>Bernard Vaughan's droll eyes and cockney voice.
<lb n="100035"/><said who="bv">―Pilate! Wy don't you old back that owlin mob?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100036"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">A zealous man, however. Really he was. And really did great good in
<lb n="100037"/>his way. Beyond a doubt. He loved Ireland, he said, and he loved the Irish.
  <lb n="100038"/>Of good family too would one think it? Welsh, were they not?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100039"/>O, lest he forget. <said who="jc" aloud="false">That letter to father provincial.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100040"/>Father Conmee stopped three little schoolboys at the corner of
<lb n="100041"/>Mountjoy square. Yes: they were from Belvedere. The little house. Aha.
<lb n="100042"/>And were they good boys at school? O. That was very good now. And what
<lb n="100043"/>was his name? Jack Sohan. And his name? Ger. Gallaher. And the other
<lb n="100044"/>little man? His name was Brunny Lynam. O, that was a very nice name to
<lb n="100045"/>have.</p>
<p><lb n="100046"/>Father Conmee gave a letter from his breast to Master Brunny Lynam
  <lb n="100047"/>and pointed to the red <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">pillarbox</distinct> at the corner of Fitzgibbon street.
<lb n="100048"/><said who="jc">―But mind you don't post yourself into the box, little man,</said> he said.</p>
<p><lb n="100049"/>The boys <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sixeyed</distinct> Father Conmee and laughed:
<lb n="100050"/><said who="bss">―O, sir.</said>
<lb n="100051"/><said who="jc">―Well, let me see if you can post a letter,</said> Father Conmee said.</p>
<p><lb n="100052"/>Master Brunny Lynam ran across the road and put Father Conmee's
<lb n="100053"/>letter to father provincial into the mouth of the bright red letterbox. Father
<lb n="100054"/>Conmee smiled and nodded and smiled and walked along Mountjoy square
<lb n="100055"/>east.</p>
<p><lb n="100056"/>Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing &amp;c, in silk hat, slate
<lb n="100057"/>frockcoat with silk facings, white kerchief tie, tight lavender trousers,
<lb n="100058"/>canary gloves and pointed patent boots, walking with grave deportment
<lb n="100059"/>most respectfully took the curbstone as he passed lady Maxwell at the
<lb n="100060"/>corner of Dignam's court.</p>
  <p><lb n="100061"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">Was that not Mrs M'Guinness?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100062"/>Mrs M'Guinness, stately, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">silverhaired</distinct>, bowed to Father Conmee from
<lb n="100063"/>the farther footpath along which she sailed. And Father Conmee smiled and
<lb n="100064"/>saluted. How did she do?</p>
<p><lb n="100065"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">A fine carriage she had. Like Mary, queen of Scots, something. And to
<lb n="100066"/>think that she was a pawnbroker! Well, now! Such a ... what should he
  <lb n="100067"/>say? .... such a queenly mien.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100068"/>Father Conmee walked down Great Charles street and glanced at the
  <lb n="100069"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">shutup</distinct> free church on his left. The reverend T. R. Greene B. A. will (D. V.)
  <lb n="100070"/>speak. <said who="jc" aloud="false">The incumbent they called him. He felt it incumbent on him to say a
<lb n="100071"/>few words. But one should be charitable. Invincible ignorance. They acted
  <lb n="100072"/>according to their lights.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100073"/>Father Conmee turned the corner and walked along the North
<lb n="100074"/>Circular road. <said who="jc" aloud="false">It was a wonder that there was not a tramline in such an
  <lb n="100075"/>important thoroughfare. Surely, there ought to be.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100076"/>A band of satchelled schoolboys crossed from Richmond street. All
<lb n="100077"/>raised untidy caps. Father Conmee greeted them more than once benignly.
  <lb n="100078"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">Christian brother boys.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100079"/>Father Conmee smelt incense on his right hand as he walked. <said who="jc" aloud="false">Saint
  <lb n="100080"/>Joseph's church, Portland row. For aged and virtuous females.</said> Father
<lb n="100081"/>Conmee raised his hat to the Blessed Sacrament. <said who="jc" aloud="false">Virtuous: but occasionally
  <lb n="100082"/>they were also <distinct type="compound">badtempered</distinct>.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100083"/>Near Aldborough house Father Conmee thought of that spendthrift
<lb n="100084"/>nobleman. And now it was an office or something.</p>
<p><lb n="100085"/>Father Conmee began to walk along the North Strand road and was
<lb n="100086"/>saluted by Mr William Gallagher who stood in the doorway of his shop.
<lb n="100087"/>Father Conmee saluted Mr William Gallagher and perceived the odours
  <lb n="100088"/>that came from <distinct type="Joycean">baconflitches</distinct> and ample cools of butter. He passed
<lb n="100089"/>Grogan's the Tobacconist against which <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">newsboards</distinct> leaned and told of a
<lb n="100090"/>dreadful catastrophe in New York. <said who="jc" aloud="false">In America those things were
<lb n="100091"/>continually happening. Unfortunate people to die like that, unprepared.
  <lb n="100092"/>Still, an act of perfect contrition.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100093"/>Father Conmee went by Daniel Bergin's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">publichouse</distinct> against the
<lb n="100094"/>window of which two unlabouring men lounged. They saluted him and
<lb n="100095"/>were saluted.</p>
<p><lb n="100096"/>Father Conmee passed H. J. O'Neill's funeral establishment where
<lb n="100097"/>Corny Kelleher totted figures in the daybook while he chewed a blade of
<lb n="100098"/>hay. A constable on his beat saluted Father Conmee and Father Conmee
<lb n="100099"/>saluted the constable. In Youkstetter's, the porkbutcher's, Father Conmee
<lb n="100100"/>observed pig's puddings, white and black and red, lie neatly curled in tubes.
<lb n="100101"/>Moored under the trees of Charleville Mall Father Conmee saw a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">turfbarge</distinct>,
<lb n="100102"/>a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">towhorse</distinct> with pendent head, a bargeman with a hat of dirty straw seated
<lb n="100103"/>amidships, smoking and staring at a branch of poplar above him. It was
<lb n="100104"/>idyllic: and Father Conmee reflected on the providence of the Creator who
<lb n="100105"/>had made turf to be in bogs whence men might dig it out and bring it to
<lb n="100106"/>town and hamlet to make fires in the houses of poor people.</p>
<p><lb n="100107"/>On Newcomen bridge the very reverend John Conmee S. J. of saint
<lb n="100108"/>Francis Xavier's church, upper Gardiner street, stepped on to an outward
<lb n="100109"/>bound tram.</p>
<p><lb n="100110"/>Off an inward bound tram stepped the reverend Nicholas Dudley
<lb n="100111"/>C. C. of saint Agatha's church, north William street, on to Newcomen
<lb n="100112"/>bridge.</p>
<p><lb n="100113"/>At Newcomen bridge Father Conmee stepped into an outward bound
<lb n="100114"/>tram for he disliked to traverse on foot the dingy way past Mud Island.</p>
<p><lb n="100115"/>Father Conmee sat in a corner of the tramcar, a blue ticket tucked
<lb n="100116"/>with care in the eye of one plump kid glove, while four shillings, a sixpence
<lb n="100117"/>and five pennies chuted from his other plump <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">glovepalm</distinct> into his purse.
<lb n="100118"/>Passing the ivy church he reflected that the ticket inspector usually made his
<lb n="100119"/>visit when one had carelessly thrown away the ticket. The solemnity of the
<lb n="100120"/>occupants of the car seemed to Father Conmee excessive for a journey so
<lb n="100121"/>short and cheap. Father Conmee liked cheerful decorum.</p>
<p><lb n="100122"/>It was a peaceful day. The gentleman with the glasses opposite Father
<lb n="100123"/>Conmee had finished explaining and looked down. His wife, Father
<lb n="100124"/>Conmee supposed.</p>
<p><lb n="100125"/>A tiny yawn opened the mouth of the wife of the gentleman with the
<lb n="100126"/>glasses. She raised her small gloved fist, yawned ever so gently, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">tiptapping</distinct>
<lb n="100127"/>her small gloved fist on her opening mouth and smiled tinily, sweetly.</p>
<p><lb n="100128"/>Father Conmee perceived her perfume in the car. He perceived also
<lb n="100129"/>that the awkward man at the other side of her was sitting on the edge of the
<lb n="100130"/>seat.</p>
<p><lb n="100131"/>Father Conmee at the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">altarrails</distinct> placed the host with difficulty in the
<lb n="100132"/>mouth of the awkward old man who had the shaky head.</p>
<p><lb n="100133"/>At Annesley bridge the tram halted and, when it was about to go, an
<lb n="100134"/>old woman rose suddenly from her place to alight. The conductor pulled
  <lb n="100135"/>the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bellstrap</distinct> to stay the car for her. She passed out with her basket and a
<lb n="100136"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">marketnet</distinct>: and Father Conmee saw the conductor help her and net and
<lb n="100137"/>basket down: and Father Conmee thought that, as she had nearly passed
<lb n="100138"/>the end of the penny fare, she was one of those good souls who had always
<lb n="100139"/>to be told twice <said who="jc" direct="false" rend="italics">bless you, my child,</said> that they have been absolved, <said who="jc" direct="false" rend="italics">pray for
<lb n="100140"/>me</said>. But they had so many worries in life, so many cares, poor creatures.</p>
<p><lb n="100141"/>From the hoardings Mr Eugene Stratton grimaced with thick
  <lb n="100142"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">niggerlips</distinct> at Father Conmee.</p>
<p><lb n="100143"/>Father Conmee thought of the souls of black and brown and yellow
<lb n="100144"/>men and of his sermon on saint Peter Claver S. J. and the African mission
<lb n="100145"/>and of the propagation of the faith and of the millions of black and brown
<lb n="100146"/>and yellow souls that had not received the baptism of water when their last
<lb n="100147"/>hour came like a thief in the night. That book by the Belgian jesuit, <foreign xml:lang="fr">Le
<lb n="100148"/>Nombre des Élus</foreign>, seemed to Father Conmee a reasonable plea. Those were
<lb n="100149"/>millions of human souls created by God in His Own likeness to whom the
<lb n="100150"/>faith had not (D. V.) been brought. But they were God's souls, created by
<lb n="100151"/>God. It seemed to Father Conmee a pity that they should all be lost, a waste,
<lb n="100152"/>if one might say.</p>
<p><lb n="100153"/>At the Howth road stop Father Conmee alighted, was saluted by the
<lb n="100154"/>conductor and saluted in his turn.</p>
<p><lb n="100155"/>The Malahide road was quiet. It pleased Father Conmee, road and
<lb n="100156"/>name. <said who="jc" aloud="false">The <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">joybells</distinct> were ringing in gay Malahide. Lord Talbot de Malahide,
<lb n="100157"/>immediate hereditary lord admiral of Malahide and the seas adjoining.
<lb n="100158"/>Then came the call to arms and she was maid, wife and widow in one day.
<lb n="100159"/>Those were old worldish days, loyal times in joyous townlands, old times in
  <lb n="100160"/>the barony.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100161"/>Father Conmee, walking, thought of his little book <title type="book">Old Times in the
<lb n="100162"/>Barony</title> and of the book that might be written about jesuit houses and of
<lb n="100163"/>Mary Rochfort, daughter of lord Molesworth, first countess of Belvedere.</p>
<p><lb n="100164"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">A listless lady, no more young, walked alone the shore of lough
<lb n="100165"/>Ennel, Mary, first countess of Belvedere, listlessly walking in the evening,
<lb n="100166"/>not startled when an otter plunged. Who could know the truth? Not the
<lb n="100167"/>jealous lord Belvedere and not her confessor if she had not committed
<lb n="100168"/>adultery fully, <foreign xml:lang="la">eiaculatio seminis inter vas naturale mulieris</foreign>, with her
<lb n="100169"/>husband's brother? She would half confess if she had not all sinned as
  <lb n="100170"/>women did. Only God knew and she and he, her husband's brother.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100171"/>Father Conmee thought of that tyrannous incontinence, needed
<lb n="100172"/>however for man's race on earth, and of the ways of God which were not
<lb n="100173"/>our ways.</p>
<p><lb n="100174"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">Don John Conmee walked and moved in times of yore. He was
<lb n="100175"/>humane and honoured there. He bore in mind secrets confessed and he
<lb n="100176"/>smiled at smiling noble faces in a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">beeswaxed</distinct> <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">drawingroom</distinct>, <distinct type="archaism">ceiled</distinct> with full
<lb n="100177"/>fruit clusters. And the hands of a bride and of a bridegroom, noble to noble,
  <lb n="100178"/>were impalmed by Don John Conmee.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100179"/>It was a charming day.</p>
<p><lb n="100180"/>The <distinct type="archaism">lychgate</distinct> of a field showed Father Conmee breadths of cabbages,
<lb n="100181"/>curtseying to him with ample <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">underleaves</distinct>. The sky showed him a flock of
<lb n="100182"/>small white clouds going slowly down the wind. <said who="jc" aloud="false"><foreign xml:lang="fr">Moutonner</foreign>, the French
  <lb n="100183"/>said. A just and homely word.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100184"/>Father Conmee, reading his office, watched a flock of muttoning
<lb n="100185"/>clouds over Rathcoffey. His <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">thinsocked</distinct> ankles were tickled by the stubble
<lb n="100186"/>of Clongowes field. He walked there, reading in the evening, and heard the
<lb n="100187"/>cries of the boys' lines at their play, young cries in the quiet evening. He
<lb n="100188"/>was their rector: his reign was mild.</p>
<p><lb n="100189"/>Father Conmee drew off his gloves and took his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">rededged</distinct> breviary
<lb n="100190"/>out. An ivory bookmark told him the page.</p>
<p><lb n="100191"/><said who="jc" aloud="false">Nones. He should have read that before lunch. But lady Maxwell had
  <lb n="100192"/>come.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100193"/>Father Conmee read in secret <foreign xml:lang="la">Pater</foreign> and <foreign xml:lang="la">Ave</foreign> and crossed his breast.
<lb n="100194"/><foreign xml:lang="la">Deus in adiutorium.</foreign></p>
<p><lb n="100195"/>He walked calmly and read mutely the nones, walking and reading till
<lb n="100196"/>he came to <foreign xml:lang="la">Res</foreign> in <foreign xml:lang="la">Beati immaculati</foreign>:
<lb n="100197"/><said who="jc">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Principium verborum tuorum veritas: in eternum omnia iudicia iustitiae
<lb n="100198"/>tuae.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="100199"/>A flushed young man came from a gap of a hedge and after him came
<lb n="100200"/>a young woman with wild nodding daisies in her hand. The young man
<lb n="100201"/>raised his cap abruptly: <ref xml:id="lb_100201">the young woman abruptly bent and with slow care
<lb n="100202"/>detached from her light skirt a clinging twig.</ref></p>
<p><lb n="100203"/>Father Conmee blessed both gravely and turned a thin page of his
<lb n="100204"/>breviary. <foreign xml:lang="he">Sin</foreign>:
<lb n="100205"/><said who="jc">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Principes persecuti sunt me gratis: et a verbis tuis formidavit cor meum.</foreign></said></p>
<lb n="100206"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="2"><p><lb n="100207"/>Corny Kelleher closed his long daybook and glanced with his
  <lb n="100208"/>drooping eye at a pine <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">coffinlid</distinct> sentried in a corner. He pulled himself erect,
<lb n="100209"/>went to it and, spinning it on its axle, viewed its shape and brass
<lb n="100210"/>furnishings. Chewing his blade of hay he laid the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">coffinlid</distinct> by and came to
<lb n="100211"/>the doorway. There he tilted his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">hatbrim</distinct> to give shade to his eyes and
<lb n="100212"/>leaned against the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">doorcase</distinct>, looking idly out.</p>
<p><lb n="100213"/>Father John Conmee stepped into the Dollymount tram on
<lb n="100214"/>Newcomen bridge.</p>
<p><lb n="100215"/>Corny Kelleher locked his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">largefooted</distinct> boots and gazed, his hat
  <lb n="100216"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">downtilted</distinct>, chewing his blade of hay.</p>
<p><lb n="100217"/>Constable 57 C, on his beat, stood to pass the time of day.
<lb n="100218"/><said who="c57c">―That's a fine day, Mr Kelleher.</said>
<lb n="100219"/><said who="ck">―Ay,</said> Corny Kelleher said.
<lb n="100220"/><said who="c57c">―It's very close,</said> the constable said.</p>
<p><lb n="100221"/>Corny Kelleher sped a silent jet of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">hayjuice</distinct> arching from his mouth
<lb n="100222"/>while a generous white arm from a window in Eccles street flung forth a
<lb n="100223"/>coin.
<lb n="100224"/><said who="ck">―What's the best news?</said> he asked.
<lb n="100225"/><said who="c57c">―I seen that particular party last evening,</said> the constable said with bated
<lb n="100226"/>breath.</p>
<lb n="100227"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="3"><p><lb n="100228"/>A <distinct type="compound">onelegged</distinct> sailor crutched himself round MacConnell's corner,
  <lb n="100229"/>skirting Rabaiotti's <distinct type="compound">icecream</distinct> car, and jerked himself up Eccles street.
<lb n="100230"/>Towards Larry O'Rourke, in shirtsleeves in his doorway, he growled
<lb n="100231"/>unamiably:
<lb n="100232"/><said who="usr">―<quote type="song">For England</quote> ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="100233"/>He swung himself violently forward past Katey and Boody Dedalus,
<lb n="100234"/>halted and growled:
<lb n="100235"/><said who="usr">―<quote type="song">home and beauty.</quote></said></p>
<p><lb n="100236"/>J. J. O'Molloy's white careworn face was told that Mr Lambert was
<lb n="100237"/>in the warehouse with a visitor.</p>
<p><lb n="100238"/>A stout lady stopped, took a copper coin from her purse and dropped
<lb n="100239"/>it into the cap held out to her. The sailor grumbled thanks, glanced sourly
<lb n="100240"/>at the unheeding windows, sank his head and swung himself forward four
<lb n="100241"/>strides.</p>
<p><lb n="100242"/>He halted and growled angrily:
<lb n="100243"/><said who="usr">―<quote type="song">For England</quote> .....</said></p>
<p><lb n="100244"/>Two barefoot urchins, sucking long liquorice laces, halted near him,
<lb n="100245"/>gaping at his stump with their <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">yellowslobbered</distinct> mouths.</p>
<p><lb n="100246"/>He swung himself forward in vigorous jerks, halted, lifted his head
<lb n="100247"/>towards a window and bayed deeply:
<lb n="100248"/><said who="usr">―<quote type="song">home and beauty.</quote></said></p>
<p><lb n="100249"/>The gay sweet chirping whistling within went on a bar or two, ceased.
<lb n="100250"/>The blind of the window was drawn aside. A card <q>Unfurnished Apartments</q>
<lb n="100251"/>slipped from the sash and fell. A plump bare generous arm shone, was seen,
<lb n="100252"/>held forth from a white <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">petticoatbodice</distinct> and taut <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">shiftstraps</distinct>. A woman's
<lb n="100253"/>hand flung forth a coin over the area railings. It fell on the path.</p>
<p><lb n="100254"/>One of the urchins ran to it, picked it up and dropped it into the
<lb n="100255"/>minstrel's cap, saying:
<lb n="100256"/><said who="uu">―There, sir.</said></p>
<lb n="100257"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="4"><p><lb n="100258"/>Katey and Boody Dedalus shoved in the door of the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">closesteaming</distinct>
<lb n="100259"/>kitchen.
<lb n="100260"/><said who="bod">―Did you put in the books?</said> Boody asked.</p>
<p><lb n="100261"/>Maggy at the range rammed down a greyish mass beneath bubbling
  <lb n="100262"/>suds twice with her <distinct type="dialect">potstick</distinct> and wiped her brow.
<lb n="100263"/><said who="magd">―They wouldn't give anything on them,</said> she said.</p>
<p><lb n="100264"/>Father Conmee walked through Clongowes fields, his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">thinsocked</distinct>
<lb n="100265"/>ankles tickled by stubble.
<lb n="100266"/><said who="bod">―Where did you try?</said> Boody asked.
<lb n="100267"/><said who="magd">―M'Guinness's.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100268"/>Boody stamped her foot and threw her satchel on the table.
  <lb n="100269"/><said who="bod">―Bad <distinct type="dialect">cess</distinct> to her big face!</said> she cried.</p>
<p><lb n="100270"/>Katey went to the range and peered with squinting eyes.
<lb n="100271"/><said who="kd">―What's in the pot?</said> she asked.
<lb n="100272"/><said who="magd">―Shirts,</said> Maggy said.</p>
<p><lb n="100273"/>Boody cried angrily:
<lb n="100274"/><said who="bod">―Crickey, is there nothing for us to eat?</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100275"/>Katey, lifting the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">kettlelid</distinct> in a pad of her stained skirt, asked:
<lb n="100276"/><said who="kd">―And what's in this?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100277"/>A heavy fume gushed in answer.
  <lb n="100278"/><said who="magd">―<distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Peasoup</distinct>,</said> Maggy said.
<lb n="100279"/><said who="kd">―Where did you get it?</said> Katey asked.
<lb n="100280"/><said who="magd">―Sister Mary Patrick,</said> Maggy said.</p>
  <p><lb n="100281"/>The <distinct type="archaism">lacquey</distinct> rang his bell.
<lb n="100282"/><said who="dl">―Barang!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100283"/>Boody sat down at the table and said hungrily:
<lb n="100284"/><said who="bod">―Give us it here.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100285"/>Maggy poured yellow thick soup from the kettle into a bowl. Katey,
<lb n="100286"/>sitting opposite Boody, said quietly, as her fingertip lifted to her mouth
<lb n="100287"/>random crumbs:
<lb n="100288"/><said who="bod">―A good job we have that much. Where's Dilly?</said>
<lb n="100289"/><said who="magd">―Gone to meet father,</said> Maggy said.</p>
<p><lb n="100290"/>Boody, breaking big chunks of bread into the yellow soup, added:
<lb n="100291"/><said who="bod">―Our father who art not in heaven.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100292"/>Maggy, pouring yellow soup in Katey's bowl, exclaimed:
<lb n="100293"/><said who="magd">―Boody! For shame!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100294"/>A skiff, a crumpled throwaway, Elijah is coming, rode lightly down
<lb n="100295"/>the Liffey, under Loopline bridge, shooting the rapids where water chafed
  <lb n="100296"/>around the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bridgepiers</distinct>, sailing eastward past hulls and <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">anchorchains</distinct>,
<lb n="100297"/>between the Customhouse old dock and George's quay.</p>
<lb n="100298"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="5"><p><lb n="100299"/>The blond girl in Thornton's bedded the wicker basket with rustling
<lb n="100300"/>fibre. Blazes Boylan handed her the bottle swathed in pink tissue paper and
<lb n="100301"/>a small jar.
<lb n="100302"/><said who="bb">―Put these in first, will you?</said> he said.
<lb n="100303"/><said who="tg">―Yes, sir,</said> the blond girl said. <said who="tg">And the fruit on top.</said>
<lb n="100304"/><said who="bb">―That'll do, game ball,</said> Blazes Boylan said.</p>
<p><lb n="100305"/>She bestowed fat pears neatly, head by tail, and among them ripe
<lb n="100306"/>shamefaced peaches.</p>
<p><lb n="100307"/>Blazes Boylan walked here and there in new tan shoes about the
  <lb n="100308"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">fruitsmelling</distinct> shop, lifting fruits, young juicy crinkled and plump red
<lb n="100309"/>tomatoes, sniffing smells.</p>
<p><lb n="100310"/>H. E. L. Y'S filed before him, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">tallwhitehatted</distinct>, past Tangier lane,
<lb n="100311"/>plodding towards their goal.</p>
<p><lb n="100312"/>He turned suddenly from a chip of strawberries, drew a gold watch
<lb n="100313"/>from his fob and held it at its chain's length.
<lb n="100314"/><said who="bb">―Can you send them by tram? Now?</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100315"/>A <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">darkbacked</distinct> figure under Merchants' arch scanned books on the
<lb n="100316"/>hawker's cart.
<lb n="100317"/><said who="tg">―Certainly, sir. Is it in the city?</said>
<lb n="100318"/><said who="bb">―O, yes,</said> Blazes Boylan said. <said who="bb">Ten minutes.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100319"/>The blond girl handed him a docket and pencil.
<lb n="100320"/><said who="tg">―Will you write the address, sir?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100321"/>Blazes Boylan at the counter wrote and pushed the docket to her.
<lb n="100322"/><said who="bb">―Send it at once, will you?</said> he said. <said who="bb">It's for an invalid.</said>
<lb n="100323"/><said who="tg">―Yes, sir. I will, sir.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100324"/>Blazes Boylan rattled merry money in his trousers' pocket.
<lb n="100325"/><said who="bb">―What's the damage?</said> he asked.</p>
<p><lb n="100326"/>The blond girl's slim fingers reckoned the fruits.</p>
<p><lb n="100327"/>Blazes Boylan looked into the cut of her blouse. <said who="bb" aloud="false">A young pullet.</said> He
<lb n="100328"/>took a red carnation from the tall <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">stemglass</distinct>.
<lb n="100329"/><said who="bb">―This for me?</said> he asked gallantly.</p>
<p><lb n="100330"/>The blond girl glanced sideways at him, <said who="bb" aloud="false">got up regardless, with his tie
  <lb n="100331"/>a bit crooked,</said> blushing.
<lb n="100332"/><said who="tg">―Yes, sir,</said> she said.</p>
<p><lb n="100333"/>Bending archly she reckoned again fat pears and blushing peaches.</p>
<p><lb n="100334"/>Blazes Boylan looked in her blouse with more favour, the stalk of the
<lb n="100335"/>red flower between his smiling teeth.
<lb n="100336"/><said who="bb">―May I say a word to your telephone, missy?</said> he asked roguishly.</p>
<lb n="100337"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="6"><p><lb n="100338"/><said who="aa">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Ma!</foreign></said> Almidano Artifoni said.</p>
<p><lb n="100339"/>He gazed over Stephen's shoulder at Goldsmith's knobby poll.</p>
<p><lb n="100340"/>Two carfuls of tourists passed slowly, their women sitting fore,
  <lb n="100341"/>gripping the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">handrests</distinct>. Palefaces. Men's arms frankly round their stunted
<lb n="100342"/>forms. They looked from Trinity to the blind columned porch of the bank
<lb n="100343"/>of Ireland where pigeons roocoocooed.
<lb n="100344"/><said who="aa">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Anch'io ho avuto di queste idee</foreign>,</said> Almidano Artifoni said, <said who="aa"><foreign xml:lang="it">quand' ero
<lb n="100345"/>giovine come Lei. Eppoi mi sono convinto che il mondo è una bestia. È
<lb n="100346"/>peccato. Perchè la sua voce .... sarebbe un cespite di rendita, via. Invece, Lei
<lb n="100347"/>si sacrifica.</foreign></said>
<lb n="100348"/><said who="sd">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Sacrifizio incruento</foreign>,</said> Stephen said smiling, swaying his ashplant in slow
  <lb n="100349"/><distinct type="Joycean">swingswong</distinct> from its midpoint, lightly.
<lb n="100350"/><said who="aa">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Speriamo</foreign>,</said> the round mustachioed face said pleasantly. <said who="aa"><foreign xml:lang="it">Ma, dia: retta a
<lb n="100351"/>me. Ci rifletta.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="100352"/>By the stern stone hand of Grattan, bidding halt, an Inchicore tram
<lb n="100353"/>unloaded straggling Highland soldiers of a band.
<lb n="100354"/><said who="sd">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Ci rifletterò</foreign>,</said> Stephen said, glancing down the solid <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">trouserleg</distinct>.
<lb n="100355"/><said who="aa">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Ma, sul serio, eh?</foreign></said> Almidano Artifoni said.</p>
<p><lb n="100356"/>His heavy hand took Stephen's firmly. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Human eyes.</said> They gazed
<lb n="100357"/>curiously an instant and turned quickly towards a Dalkey tram.
<lb n="100358"/><said who="aa">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Eccolo</foreign>,</said> Almidano Artifoni said in friendly haste. <said who="aa"><foreign xml:lang="it">Venga a trovarmi e ci
<lb n="100359"/>pensi. Addio, caro.</foreign></said>
<lb n="100360"/><said who="sd">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Arrivederla, maestro</foreign>,</said> Stephen said, raising his hat when his hand was
<lb n="100361"/>freed. <said who="sd"><foreign xml:lang="it">E grazie.</foreign></said>
<lb n="100362"/><said who="aa">―<foreign xml:lang="it">Di che?</foreign> </said>Almidano Artifoni said. <said who="aa"><foreign xml:lang="it">Scusi, eh? Tante belle cose!</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="100363"/>Almidano Artifoni, holding up a baton of rolled music as a signal,
<lb n="100364"/>trotted on stout trousers after the Dalkey tram. In vain he trotted, signalling
  <lb n="100365"/>in vain among the rout of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">barekneed</distinct> <distinct type="dialect">gillies</distinct> smuggling implements of music
<lb n="100366"/>through Trinity gates.</p>
<lb n="100367"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="7"><p><lb n="100368"/>Miss Dunne hid the Capel street library copy of <title type="book">The Woman in White</title>
<lb n="100369"/>far back in her drawer and rolled a sheet of gaudy notepaper into her
<lb n="100370"/>typewriter.</p>
<p><lb n="100371"/><said who="missd" aloud="false">Too much mystery business in it. Is he in love with that one, Marion?</said>
<lb n="100372"/>Change it and get another by Mary Cecil Haye.</p>
<p><lb n="100373"/>The disk shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased and ogled
<lb n="100374"/>them: six.</p>
<p><lb n="100375"/>Miss Dunne clicked on the keyboard:
<lb n="100376"/><said who="missd">―16 June 1904.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100377"/>Five <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">tallwhitehatted</distinct> <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sandwichmen</distinct> between Monypeny's corner and
<lb n="100378"/>the slab where Wolfe Tone's statue was not, eeled themselves turning
<lb n="100379"/>H. E. L. Y'S and plodded back as they had come.</p>
<p><lb n="100380"/>Then she stared at the large poster of Marie Kendall, charming
<lb n="100381"/>soubrette, and, listlessly lolling, scribbled on the jotter sixteens and capital
<lb n="100382"/>esses. <said who="missd" aloud="false">Mustard hair and dauby cheeks. She's not <distinct type="compound">nicelooking</distinct>, is she? The
<lb n="100383"/>way she's holding up her bit of a skirt. Wonder will that fellow be at the
<lb n="100384"/>band tonight. If I could get that dressmaker to make a concertina skirt like
<lb n="100385"/>Susy Nagle's. They kick out grand. Shannon and all the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">boatclub</distinct> swells
<lb n="100386"/>never took his eyes off her. Hope to goodness he won't keep me here till
  <lb n="100387"/>seven.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100388"/>The telephone rang rudely by her ear.
<lb n="100389"/><said who="missd">―Hello. Yes, sir. No, sir. Yes, sir. I'll ring them up after five. Only those
<lb n="100390"/>two, sir, for Belfast and Liverpool. All right, sir. Then I can go after six if
<lb n="100391"/>you're not back. A quarter after. Yes, sir. <distinct type="compound">Twentyseven</distinct> and six. I'll tell him.
<lb n="100392"/>Yes: one, seven, six.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100393"/>She scribbled three figures on an envelope.
<lb n="100394"/><said who="missd">―Mr Boylan! Hello! That gentleman from <title type="newspaper">Sport</title> was in looking for you.
<lb n="100395"/>Mr Lenehan, yes. He said he'll be in the Ormond at four. No, sir. Yes, sir.
<lb n="100396"/>I'll ring them up after five.</said></p>
<lb n="100397"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="8"><p><lb n="100398"/>Two pink faces turned in the flare of the tiny torch.
<lb n="100399"/><said who="nl">―Who's that?</said> Ned Lambert asked. <said who="nl">Is that Crotty?</said>
<lb n="100400"/><said who="jjom">―Ringabella and Crosshaven,</said> a voice replied groping for foothold.
<lb n="100401"/><said who="nl">―Hello, Jack, is that yourself?</said> Ned Lambert said, raising in salute his
<lb n="100402"/>pliant lath among the flickering arches. <said who="nl">Come on. Mind your steps there.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100403"/>The vesta in the clergyman's uplifted hand consumed itself in a long
<lb n="100404"/>soft flame and was let fall. At their feet its red speck died: and mouldy air
<lb n="100405"/>closed round them.
<lb n="100406"/><said who="hcl">―How interesting!</said> a refined accent said in the gloom.
<lb n="100407"/><said who="nl">―Yes, sir,</said> Ned Lambert said heartily. <said who="nl">We are standing in the historic
<lb n="100408"/>council chamber of saint Mary's abbey where silken Thomas proclaimed
<lb n="100409"/>himself a rebel in 1534. This is the most historic spot in all Dublin.
<lb n="100410"/>O'Madden Burke is going to write something about it one of these days.
<lb n="100411"/>The old bank of Ireland was over the way till the time of the union and the
<lb n="100412"/>original jews' temple was here too before they built their synagogue over in
<lb n="100413"/>Adelaide road. You were never here before, Jack, were you?</said>
<lb n="100414"/><said who="jjom">―No, Ned.</said>
<lb n="100415"/><said who="hcl">―He rode down through Dame walk,</said> the refined accent said, <said who="hcl">if my
<lb n="100416"/>memory serves me. The mansion of the Kildares was in Thomas court.</said>
<lb n="100417"/><said who="nl">―That's right,</said> Ned Lambert said. <said who="nl">That's quite right, sir.</said>
<lb n="100418"/><said who="hcl">―If you will be so kind then,</said> the clergyman said, <said who="hcl">the next time to allow me
<lb n="100419"/>perhaps ....</said>
<lb n="100420"/><said who="nl">―Certainly,</said> Ned Lambert said. <said who="nl">Bring the camera whenever you like. I'll get
<lb n="100421"/>those bags cleared away from the windows. You can take it from here or
<lb n="100422"/>from here.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100423"/>In the still faint light he moved about, tapping with his lath the piled
  <lb n="100424"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">seedbags</distinct> and points of vantage on the floor.</p>
<p><lb n="100425"/>From a long face a beard and gaze hung on a chessboard.
<lb n="100426"/><said who="hcl">―I'm deeply obliged, Mr Lambert,</said> the clergyman said. <said who="hcl">I won't trespass on
<lb n="100427"/>your valuable time ....</said>
<lb n="100428"/><said who="nl">―You're welcome, sir,</said> Ned Lambert said. <said who="nl">Drop in whenever you like. Next
<lb n="100429"/>week, say. Can you see?</said>
<lb n="100430"/><said who="hcl">―Yes, yes. Good afternoon, Mr Lambert. Very pleased to have met you.</said>
<lb n="100431"/><said who="nl">―Pleasure is mine, sir,</said> Ned Lambert answered.</p>
<p><lb n="100432"/>He followed his guest to the outlet and then whirled his lath away
<lb n="100433"/>among the pillars. With J. J. O'Molloy he came forth slowly into Mary's
<lb n="100434"/>abbey where draymen were loading floats with sacks of carob and <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">palmnut</distinct>
<lb n="100435"/>meal, O'Connor, Wexford.</p>
<p><lb n="100436"/>He stood to read the card in his hand.
<lb n="100437"/><said who="nl">―The reverend Hugh C. Love, Rathcoffey. Present address: Saint
<lb n="100438"/>Michael's, Sallins. Nice young chap he is. He's writing a book about the
<lb n="100439"/>Fitzgeralds he told me. He's well up in history, faith.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100440"/><ref xml:id="lb_100440">The young woman with slow care detached from her light skirt a
<lb n="100441"/>clinging twig.</ref>
<lb n="100442"/><said who="jjom">―I thought you were at a new gunpowder plot,</said> J. J. O'Molloy said.</p>
<p><lb n="100443"/>Ned Lambert cracked his fingers in the air.
<lb n="100444"/><said who="nl">―God!</said> he cried. <said who="nl">I forgot to tell him that one about the earl of Kildare after
<lb n="100445"/>he set fire to Cashel cathedral. You know that one? <said who="gf" rend="italics">I'm bloody sorry I did it</said>,
<lb n="100446"/>says he, <said who="gf" rend="italics">but I declare to God I thought the archbishop was inside</said>. He
<lb n="100447"/>mightn't like it, though. What? God, I'll tell him anyhow. That was the
<lb n="100448"/>great earl, the Fitzgerald Mor. Hot members they were all of them, the
<lb n="100449"/>Geraldines.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100450"/>The horses he passed started nervously under their slack harness. He
<lb n="100451"/>slapped a piebald haunch quivering near him and cried:
<lb n="100452"/><said who="nl">―Woa, sonny!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100453"/>He turned to J. J. O'Molloy and asked:
<lb n="100454"/><said who="nl">―Well, Jack. What is it? What's the trouble? Wait awhile. Hold hard.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100455"/>With gaping mouth and head far back he stood still and, after an
<lb n="100456"/>instant, sneezed loudly.
<lb n="100457"/><said who="nl">―Chow!</said> he said. <said who="nl">Blast you!</said>
<lb n="100458"/><said who="jjom">―The dust from those sacks,</said> J. J. O'Molloy said politely.
<lb n="100459"/><said who="nl">―No,</said> Ned Lambert gasped, <said who="nl">I caught a .... cold night before .... blast your
<lb n="100460"/>soul ... night before last ... and there was a hell of a lot of draught ....</said></p>
<p><lb n="100461"/>He held his handkerchief ready for the coming ...
<lb n="100462"/><said who="nl">―I was .... Glasnevin this morning ... poor little ... what do you call him ...
<lb n="100463"/>Chow! ... Mother of Moses!</said></p>
<lb n="100464"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="9"><p><lb n="100465"/>Tom Rochford took the top disk from the pile he clasped against his
<lb n="100466"/>claret waistcoat.
<lb n="100467"/><said who="tr">―See?</said> he said. <said who="tr">Say it's turn six. In here, see. Turn Now On.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100468"/>He slid it into the left slot for them. It shot down the groove, wobbled
<lb n="100469"/>a while, ceased, ogling them: six.</p>
<p><lb n="100470"/>Lawyers of the past, haughty, pleading, beheld pass from the
<lb n="100471"/>consolidated taxing office to Nisi Prius court Richie Goulding carrying the
  <lb n="100472"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">costbag</distinct> of Goulding, Collis and Ward and heard rustling from the
<lb n="100473"/>admiralty division of king's bench to the court of appeal an elderly female
<lb n="100474"/>with false teeth smiling incredulously and a black silk skirt of great
<lb n="100475"/>amplitude.
<lb n="100476"/><said who="tr">―See?</said> he said. <said who="tr">See now the last one I put in is over here: Turns Over. The
<lb n="100477"/>impact. Leverage, see?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100478"/>He showed them the rising column of disks on the right.
<lb n="100479"/><said who="nf">―Smart idea,</said> Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. <said who="nf">So a fellow coming in late can
<lb n="100480"/>see what turn is on and what turns are over.</said>
<lb n="100481"/><said who="tr">―See?</said> Tom Rochford said.</p>
<p><lb n="100482"/>He slid in a disk for himself: and watched it shoot, wobble, ogle, stop:
<lb n="100483"/>four. Turn Now On.
<lb n="100484"/><said who="len">―I'll see him now in the Ormond,</said> Lenehan said, <said who="len">and sound him. One good
<lb n="100485"/>turn deserves another.</said>
<lb n="100486"/><said who="tr">―Do,</said> Tom Rochford said. <said who="tr">Tell him I'm Boylan with impatience.</said>
<lb n="100487"/><said who="cpm">―Goodnight,</said> M'Coy said abruptly. <said who="cpm">When you two begin .....</said></p>
<p><lb n="100488"/>Nosey Flynn stooped towards the lever, snuffling at it.
<lb n="100489"/><said who="nf">―But how does it work here, Tommy?</said> he asked.
<lb n="100490"/><said who="len">―Tooraloo,</said> Lenehan said. <said who="len">See you later.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100491"/>He followed M'Coy out across the tiny square of Crampton court.
<lb n="100492"/><said who="len">―He's a hero,</said> he said simply.
<lb n="100493"/><said who="cpm">―I know,</said> M'Coy said. <said who="cpm">The drain, you mean.</said>
<lb n="100494"/><said who="len">―Drain?</said> Lenehan said. <said who="len">It was down a manhole.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100495"/>They passed Dan Lowry's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">musichall</distinct> where Marie Kendall, charming
<lb n="100496"/>soubrette, smiled on them from a poster a dauby smile.</p>
<p><lb n="100497"/>Going down the path of Sycamore street beside the Empire <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">musichall</distinct>
<lb n="100498"/>Lenehan showed M'Coy how the whole thing was. One of those manholes
  <lb n="100499"/>like a bloody <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">gaspipe</distinct> and there was the poor devil stuck down in it, half
<lb n="100500"/>choked with sewer gas. Down went Tom Rochford anyhow, booky's vest
<lb n="100501"/>and all, with the rope round him. And be damned but he got the rope round
<lb n="100502"/>the poor devil and the two were hauled up.
<lb n="100503"/><said who="len">―The act of a hero,</said> he said.</p>
<p><lb n="100504"/>At the Dolphin they halted to allow the ambulance car to gallop past
<lb n="100505"/>them for Jervis street.
<lb n="100506"/><said who="len">―This way,</said> he said, walking to the right. <said who="len">I want to pop into Lynam's to see
<lb n="100507"/><name type="horse" rend="none">Sceptre</name>'s starting price. What's the time by your gold watch and chain?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100508"/>M'Coy peered into Marcus Tertius Moses' sombre office, then at
<lb n="100509"/>O'Neill's clock.
<lb n="100510"/><said who="cpm">―After three,</said> he said. <said who="cpm">Who's riding her?</said>
<lb n="100511"/><said who="len">―O. Madden,</said> Lenehan said. <said who="len">And a game filly she is.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100512"/>While he waited in Temple bar M'Coy dodged a banana peel with
<lb n="100513"/>gentle pushes of his toe from the path to the gutter. <said who="cpm" aloud="false">Fellow might damn easy
  <lb n="100514"/>get a nasty fall there coming along tight in the dark.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100515"/>The gates of the drive opened wide to give egress to the viceregal
<lb n="100516"/>cavalcade.
<lb n="100517"/><said who="len">―Even money,</said> Lenehan said returning. <said who="len">I knocked against Bantam Lyons in
<lb n="100518"/>there going to back a bloody horse someone gave him that hasn't an
<lb n="100519"/>earthly. Through here.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100520"/>They went up the steps and under Merchants' arch. A <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">darkbacked</distinct>
<lb n="100521"/>figure scanned books on the hawker's cart.
<lb n="100522"/><said who="len">―There he is,</said> Lenehan said.
<lb n="100523"/><said who="cpm">―Wonder what he's buying,</said> M'Coy said, glancing behind.
<lb n="100524"/><said who="len">―<title type="book">Leopoldo or the Bloom is on the Rye</title>,</said> Lenehan said.
<lb n="100525"/><said who="cpm">―He's dead nuts on sales,</said> M'Coy said. <said who="cpm">I was with him one day and he
<lb n="100526"/>bought a book from an old one in Liffey street for two bob. There were fine
<lb n="100527"/>plates in it worth double the money, the stars and the moon and comets
<lb n="100528"/>with long tails. Astronomy it was about.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100529"/>Lenehan laughed.
<lb n="100530"/><said who="len">―I'll tell you a damn good one about comets' tails,</said> he said. <said who="len">Come over in
<lb n="100531"/>the sun.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100532"/>They crossed to the metal bridge and went along Wellington quay by
  <lb n="100533"/>the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">riverwall</distinct>.</p>
<p><lb n="100534"/>Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam came out of Mangan's, late
<lb n="100535"/>Fehrenbach's, carrying a pound and a half of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">porksteaks</distinct>.
<lb n="100536"/><said who="len">―There was a long spread out at Glencree reformatory,</said> Lenehan said
<lb n="100537"/>eagerly. <said who="len">The annual dinner, you know. Boiled shirt affair. The lord mayor
<lb n="100538"/>was there, Val Dillon it was, and sir Charles Cameron and Dan Dawson
<lb n="100539"/>spoke and there was music. Bartell d'Arcy sang and Benjamin Dollard .....</said>
<lb n="100540"/><said who="cpm">―I know,</said> M'Coy broke in. <said who="cpm">My missus sang there once.</said>
<lb n="100541"/><said who="len">―Did she?</said> Lenehan said.</p>
<p><lb n="100542"/>A card <q>Unfurnished Apartments</q> reappeared on the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">windowsash</distinct> of
<lb n="100543"/>number 7 Eccles street.</p>
<p><lb n="100544"/>He checked his tale a moment but broke out in a wheezy laugh.
<lb n="100545"/><said who="len">―But wait till I tell you,</said> he said. <said who="len">Delahunt of Camden street had the
<lb n="100546"/>catering and yours truly was chief <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bottlewasher</distinct>. Bloom and the wife were
<lb n="100547"/>there. Lashings of stuff we put up: port wine and sherry and curaçoa to
<lb n="100548"/>which we did ample justice. Fast and furious it was. After liquids came
<lb n="100549"/>solids. Cold joints galore and mince pies ....</said>
<lb n="100550"/><said who="cpm">―I know,</said> M'Coy said. <said who="cpm">The year the missus was there .....</said></p>
<p><lb n="100551"/>Lenehan linked his arm warmly.
<lb n="100552"/><said who="len">―But wait till I tell you,</said> he said. <said who="len">We had a midnight lunch too after all the
<lb n="100553"/>jollification and when we sallied forth it was blue o'clock the morning after
<lb n="100554"/>the night before. Coming home it was a gorgeous winter's night on the
<lb n="100555"/>Featherbed Mountain. Bloom and Chris Callinan were on one side of the
<lb n="100556"/>car and I was with the wife on the other. We started singing glees and duets:
<lb n="100557"/><title type="song">Lo, the early beam of morning</title>. She was well primed with a good load of
<lb n="100558"/>Delahunt's port under her bellyband. Every jolt the bloody car gave I had
<lb n="100559"/>her bumping up against me. Hell's delights! She has a fine pair, God bless
<lb n="100560"/>her. Like that.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100561"/>He held his caved hands a cubit from him, frowning:
<lb n="100562"/><said who="len">―I was tucking the rug under her and settling her boa all the time. Know
<lb n="100563"/>what I mean?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100564"/>His hands moulded ample curves of air. He shut his eyes tight in
<lb n="100565"/>delight, his body shrinking, and blew a sweet chirp from his lips.
<lb n="100566"/><said who="len">―The lad stood to attention anyhow,</said> he said with a sigh. <said who="len">She's a gamey
<lb n="100567"/>mare and no mistake. Bloom was pointing out all the stars and the comets
  <lb n="100568"/>in the heavens to Chris Callinan and the <distinct type="dialect">jarvey</distinct>: the great bear and
  <lb n="100569"/>Hercules and the dragon, and the whole <distinct type="dialect">jingbang</distinct> lot. But, by God, I was
<lb n="100570"/>lost, so to speak, in the milky way. He knows them all, faith. At last she
<lb n="100571"/>spotted a weeny weeshy one miles away. <said who="mb" rend="italics">And what star is that, Poldy?</said> says
<lb n="100572"/>she. By God, she had Bloom cornered. <said who="chc" rend="italics">That one, is it?</said> says Chris Callinan,
<lb n="100573"/><said who="chc" rend="italics">sure that's only what you might call a pinprick</said>. By God, he wasn't far wide
<lb n="100574"/>of the mark.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100575"/>Lenehan stopped and leaned on the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">riverwall</distinct>, panting with soft
<lb n="100576"/>laughter.
<lb n="100577"/><said who="len">―I'm weak,</said> he gasped.</p>
<p><lb n="100578"/>M'Coy's white face smiled about it at instants and grew grave.
<lb n="100579"/>Lenehan walked on again. He lifted his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">yachtingcap</distinct> and scratched his
  <lb n="100580"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">hindhead</distinct> rapidly. He glanced sideways in the sunlight at M'Coy.
<lb n="100581"/><said who="len">―He's a cultured <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">allroundman</distinct>, Bloom is,</said> he said seriously. <said who="len">He's not one of
<lb n="100582"/>your common or garden ... you know ... There's a touch of the artist about
<lb n="100583"/>old Bloom.</said></p>
<lb n="100584"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="10"><p><lb n="100585"/>Mr Bloom turned over idly pages of <title type="book">The Awful Disclosures of Maria
<lb n="100586"/>Monk</title>, then of Aristotle's <title type="book">Masterpiece</title>. <said who="lb" aloud="false">Crooked botched print. Plates:
<lb n="100587"/>infants cuddled in a ball in <distinct type="compound">bloodred</distinct> wombs like livers of slaughtered cows.
<lb n="100588"/>Lots of them like that at this moment all over the world. All butting with
<lb n="100589"/>their skulls to get out of it. Child born every minute somewhere. Mrs
  <lb n="100590"/>Purefoy.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100591"/>He laid both books aside and glanced at the third: <title type="book">Tales of the Ghetto</title>
<lb n="100592"/>by Leopold von Sacher Masoch.
<lb n="100593"/><said who="lb">―That I had,</said> he said, pushing it by.</p>
  <p><lb n="100594"/>The <distinct type="dialect">shopman</distinct> let two volumes fall on the counter.
<lb n="100595"/><said who="ubk">―Them are two good ones,</said> he said.</p>
<p><lb n="100596"/>Onions of his breath came across the counter out of his ruined
<lb n="100597"/>mouth. He bent to make a bundle of the other books, hugged them against
<lb n="100598"/>his unbuttoned waistcoat and bore them off behind the dingy curtain.</p>
<p><lb n="100599"/>On O'Connell bridge many persons observed the grave deportment
<lb n="100600"/>and gay apparel of Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing &amp;c.</p>
<p><lb n="100601"/>Mr Bloom, alone, looked at the titles. <title type="book">Fair Tyrants</title> by James
  <lb n="100602"/>Lovebirch. <said who="lb" aloud="false">Know the kind that is. Had it? Yes.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100603"/>He opened it. <said who="lb" aloud="false">Thought so.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100604"/>A woman's voice behind the dingy curtain. <said who="lb" aloud="false">Listen: the man.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100605"/><said who="lb" aloud="false">No: she wouldn't like that much. Got her it once.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100606"/>He read the other title: <said who="lb" aloud="false"><title type="book">Sweets of Sin</title>. More in her line. Let us see.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100607"/>He read where his finger opened.
<lb n="100608"/><said who="lb">―<q>All the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">dollarbills</distinct> her husband gave her were spent in the stores on
  <lb n="100609"/>wondrous gowns and costliest <distinct type="dialect">frillies</distinct>. For him! For Raoul!</q></said></p>
  <p><lb n="100610"/><said who="lb" aloud="false">Yes. This. Here. Try.</said>
<lb n="100611"/><said who="lb">―<q>Her mouth glued on his in a luscious voluptuous kiss while his hands felt
<lb n="100612"/>for the opulent curves inside her deshabille.</q></said></p>
  <p><lb n="100613"/><said who="lb" aloud="false">Yes. Take this. The end.</said>
<lb n="100614"/><said who="lb">―<q>You are late, he spoke hoarsely, eying her with a suspicious glare.
<lb n="100615"/>The beautiful woman threw off her <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sabletrimmed</distinct> wrap, displaying her
<lb n="100616"/>queenly shoulders and heaving embonpoint. An imperceptible smile played
<lb n="100617"/>round her perfect lips as she turned to him calmly.</q></said></p>
<p><lb n="100618"/>Mr Bloom read again: <q>The beautiful woman</q> ....</p>
<p><lb n="100619"/>Warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yielded
<lb n="100620"/>amply amid rumpled clothes: whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils
<lb n="100621"/>arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments (<q>for him! for Raoul!</q>).
<lb n="100622"/><said who="lb" aloud="false">Armpits' oniony sweat. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Fishgluey</distinct> slime (<q>her heaving embonpoint!</q>). Feel!
  <lb n="100623"/>Press! Chrished! Sulphur dung of lions!</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100624"/><said who="lb" aloud="false">Young! Young!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100625"/>An elderly female, no more young, left the building of the courts of
<lb n="100626"/>chancery, king's bench, exchequer and common pleas, having heard in the
<lb n="100627"/>lord chancellor's court the case in lunacy of Potterton, in the admiralty
  <lb n="100628"/>division the summons, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">exparte</distinct> motion, of the owners of the Lady Cairns
<lb n="100629"/>versus the owners of the barque Mona, in the court of appeal reservation of
<lb n="100630"/>judgment in the case of Harvey versus the Ocean Accident and Guarantee
<lb n="100631"/>Corporation.</p>
<p><lb n="100632"/>Phlegmy coughs shook the air of the bookshop, bulging out the dingy
  <lb n="100633"/>curtains. The <distinct type="dialect">shopman's</distinct> uncombed grey head came out and his unshaven
<lb n="100634"/>reddened face, coughing. He raked his throat rudely, puked phlegm on the
<lb n="100635"/>floor. He put his boot on what he had spat, wiping his sole along it, and
  <lb n="100636"/>bent, showing a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">rawskinned</distinct> crown, scantily haired.</p>
<p><lb n="100637"/>Mr Bloom beheld it.</p>
<p><lb n="100638"/>Mastering his troubled breath, he said:
<lb n="100639"/><said who="lb">―I'll take this one.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100640"/>The <distinct type="dialect">shopman</distinct> lifted eyes bleared with old rheum.
<lb n="100641"/><said who="ubk">―<title type="book">Sweets of Sin</title>,</said> he said, tapping on it. <said who="ubk">That's a good one.</said></p>
<lb n="100642"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="11"><p><lb n="100643"/>The <distinct type="archaism">lacquey</distinct> by the door of Dillon's <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">auctionrooms</distinct> shook his handbell
<lb n="100644"/>twice again and viewed himself in the chalked mirror of the cabinet.</p>
<p><lb n="100645"/>Dilly Dedalus, loitering by the curbstone, heard the beats of the bell,
<lb n="100646"/>the cries of the auctioneer within. Four and nine. Those lovely curtains.
<lb n="100647"/>Five shillings. Cosy curtains. Selling new at two guineas. Any advance on
<lb n="100648"/>five shillings? Going for five shillings.</p>
  <p><lb n="100649"/>The <distinct type="archaism">lacquey</distinct> lifted his handbell and shook it:
<lb n="100650"/><said who="dl">―Barang!</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100651"/>Bang of the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lastlap</distinct> bell spurred the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">halfmile</distinct> wheelmen to their sprint.
<lb n="100652"/>J. A. Jackson, W. E. Wylie, A. Munro and H. T. Gahan, their stretched
<lb n="100653"/>necks wagging, negotiated the curve by the College library.</p>
<p><lb n="100654"/>Mr Dedalus, tugging a long moustache, came round from Williams's
<lb n="100655"/>row. He halted near his daughter.
<lb n="100656"/><said who="did">―It's time for you,</said> she said.
<lb n="100657"/><said who="sid">―Stand up straight for the love of the lord Jesus,</said> Mr Dedalus said. <said who="sid">Are you
<lb n="100658"/>trying to imitate your uncle John, the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">cornetplayer</distinct>, head upon shoulder?
<lb n="100659"/>Melancholy God!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100660"/>Dilly shrugged her shoulders. Mr Dedalus placed his hands on them
<lb n="100661"/>and held them back.
<lb n="100662"/><said who="sid">―Stand up straight, girl,</said> he said. <said who="sid">You'll get curvature of the spine. Do you
<lb n="100663"/>know what you look like?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100664"/>He let his head sink suddenly down and forward, hunching his
<lb n="100665"/>shoulders and dropping his underjaw.
<lb n="100666"/><said who="did">―Give it up, father,</said> Dilly said. <said who="did">All the people are looking at you.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100667"/>Mr Dedalus drew himself upright and tugged again at his moustache.
<lb n="100668"/><said who="did">―Did you get any money?</said> Dilly asked.
<lb n="100669"/><said who="sid">―Where would I get money?</said> Mr Dedalus said. <said who="sid">There is no-one in Dublin
<lb n="100670"/>would lend me fourpence.</said>
<lb n="100671"/><said who="did">―You got some,</said> Dilly said, looking in his eyes.
<lb n="100672"/><said who="sid">―How do you know that?</said> Mr Dedalus asked, his tongue in his cheek.</p>
<p><lb n="100673"/>Mr Kernan, pleased with the order he had booked, walked boldly
<lb n="100674"/>along James's street.
<lb n="100675"/><said who="did">―I know you did,</said> Dilly answered. <said who="did">Were you in the Scotch house now?</said>
<lb n="100676"/><said who="sid">―I was not, then,</said> Mr Dedalus said, smiling. <said who="sid">Was it the little nuns taught
<lb n="100677"/>you to be so saucy? Here.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100678"/>He handed her a shilling.
<lb n="100679"/><said who="sid">―See if you can do anything with that,</said> he said.
<lb n="100680"/><said who="did">―I suppose you got five,</said> Dilly said. <said who="did">Give me more than that.</said>
<lb n="100681"/><said who="sid">―Wait awhile,</said> Mr Dedalus said threateningly. <said who="sid">You're like the rest of them,
<lb n="100682"/>are you? An insolent pack of little bitches since your poor mother died. But
<lb n="100683"/>wait awhile. You'll all get a short shrift and a long day from me. Low
<lb n="100684"/>blackguardism! I'm going to get rid of you. Wouldn't care if I was stretched
<lb n="100685"/>out stiff. He's dead. The man upstairs is dead.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100686"/>He left her and walked on. Dilly followed quickly and pulled his coat.
<lb n="100687"/><said who="did">―Well, what is it?</said> he said, stopping.</p>
<p><lb n="100688"/>The lacquey rang his bell behind their backs.
<lb n="100689"/><said who="dl">―Barang!</said>
<lb n="100690"/><said who="sid">―Curse your bloody blatant soul,</said> Mr Dedalus cried, turning on him.</p>
<p><lb n="100691"/>The lacquey, aware of comment, shook the lolling clapper of his bell
<lb n="100692"/>but feebly:
<lb n="100693"/><said who="dl">―Bang!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100694"/>Mr Dedalus stared at him.
<lb n="100695"/><said who="sid">―Watch him,</said> he said. <said who="sid">It's instructive. I wonder will he allow us to talk.</said>
<lb n="100696"/><said who="did">―You got more than that, father,</said> Dilly said.
<lb n="100697"/><said who="sid">―I'm going to show you a little trick,</said> Mr Dedalus said. <said who="sid">I'll leave you all
<lb n="100698"/>where Jesus left the jews. Look, there's all I have. I got two shillings from
<lb n="100699"/>Jack Power and I spent twopence for a shave for the funeral.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100700"/>He drew forth a handful of copper coins, nervously.
<lb n="100701"/><said who="did">―Can't you look for some money somewhere?</said> Dilly said.</p>
<p><lb n="100702"/>Mr Dedalus thought and nodded.
<lb n="100703"/><said who="sid">―I will,</said> he said gravely. <said who="sid">I looked all along the gutter in O'Connell street.
<lb n="100704"/>I'll try this one now.</said>
<lb n="100705"/><said who="did">―You're very funny,</said> Dilly said, grinning.
<lb n="100706"/><said who="sid">―Here,</said> Mr Dedalus said, handing her two pennies. <said who="sid">Get a glass of milk for
<lb n="100707"/>yourself and a bun or a something. I'll be home shortly.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100708"/>He put the other coins in his pocket and started to walk on.</p>
<p><lb n="100709"/>The viceregal cavalcade passed, greeted by obsequious policemen, out
<lb n="100710"/>of Parkgate.
<lb n="100711"/><said who="did">―I'm sure you have another shilling,</said> Dilly said.</p>
<p><lb n="100712"/>The lacquey banged loudly.</p>
<p><lb n="100713"/>Mr Dedalus amid the din walked off, murmuring to himself with a
<lb n="100714"/>pursing mincing mouth gently:
<lb n="100715"/><said who="sid">―The little nuns! Nice little things! O, sure they wouldn't do anything! O,
<lb n="100716"/>sure they wouldn't really! Is it little sister Monica!</said></p>
<lb n="100717"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="12"><p><lb n="100718"/>From the sundial towards James's gate walked Mr Kernan, pleased
<lb n="100719"/>with the order he had booked for Pulbrook Robertson, boldly along
<lb n="100720"/>James's street, past Shackleton's offices. <said who="tk" aloud="false">Got round him all right. How do
<lb n="100721"/>you do, Mr Crimmins? First rate, sir. I was afraid you might be up in your
<lb n="100722"/>other establishment in Pimlico. How are things going? Just keeping alive.
<lb n="100723"/>Lovely weather we're having. Yes, indeed. Good for the country. Those
<lb n="100724"/>farmers are always grumbling. I'll just take a thimbleful of your best gin,
<lb n="100725"/>Mr Crimmins. A small gin, sir. Yes, sir. Terrible affair that <name type="ship">General Slocum</name>
<lb n="100726"/>explosion. Terrible, terrible! A thousand casualties. And heartrending
<lb n="100727"/>scenes. Men trampling down women and children. Most brutal thing. What
<lb n="100728"/>do they say was the cause? Spontaneous combustion. Most scandalous
<lb n="100729"/>revelation. Not a single lifeboat would float and the firehose all burst. What
<lb n="100730"/>I can't understand is how the inspectors ever allowed a boat like that ....
<lb n="100731"/>Now, you're talking straight, Mr Crimmins. You know why? Palm oil. Is
<lb n="100732"/>that a fact? Without a doubt. Well now, look at that. And America they say
  <lb n="100733"/>is the land of the free. I thought we were bad here.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100734"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">I smiled at him.</said> <said who="tk" direct="false" rend="italics">America</said>, <said who="tk" aloud="false">I said quietly, just like that.</said> <said who="tk" direct="false" rend="italics">What is it? The
<lb n="100735"/>sweepings of every country including our own. Isn't that true?</said> <said who="tk" aloud="false">That's a fact.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100736"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Graft, my dear sir. Well, of course, where there's money going there's
  <lb n="100737"/>always someone to pick it up.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100738"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Saw him looking at my frockcoat. Dress does it. Nothing like a
  <lb n="100739"/>dressy appearance. Bowls them over.</said>
<lb n="100740"/><said who="fc">―Hello, Simon,</said> Father Cowley said. <said who="fc">How are things?</said>
<lb n="100741"/><said who="sid">―Hello, Bob, old man,</said> Mr Dedalus answered, stopping.</p>
<p><lb n="100742"/>Mr Kernan halted and preened himself before the sloping mirror of
<lb n="100743"/>Peter Kennedy, hairdresser. <said who="tk" aloud="false">Stylish coat, beyond a doubt. Scott of Dawson
<lb n="100744"/>street. Well worth the half sovereign I gave Neary for it. Never built under
<lb n="100745"/>three guineas. Fits me down to the ground. Some Kildare street club <distinct type="dialect">toff</distinct>
<lb n="100746"/>had it probably. John Mulligan, the manager of the Hibernian bank, gave
  <lb n="100747"/>me a very sharp eye yesterday on Carlisle bridge as if he remembered me.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100748"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Aham! Must dress the character for those fellows. Knight of the road.
<lb n="100749"/>Gentleman. And now, Mr Crimmins, may we have the honour of your
<lb n="100750"/>custom again, sir. The cup that cheers but not inebriates, as the old saying
  <lb n="100751"/>has it.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100752"/>North wall and sir John Rogerson's quay, with hulls and
  <lb n="100753"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">anchorchains</distinct>, sailing westward, sailed by a skiff, a crumpled throwaway,
  <lb n="100754"/>rocked on the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ferrywash</distinct>, Elijah is coming.</p>
<p><lb n="100755"/>Mr Kernan glanced in farewell at his image. <said who="tk" aloud="false">High colour, of course.
  <lb n="100756"/>Grizzled moustache. Returned Indian officer.</said> Bravely he bore his stumpy
<lb n="100757"/>body forward on spatted feet, squaring his shoulders. <said who="tk" aloud="false">Is that Ned
<lb n="100758"/>Lambert's brother over the way, Sam? What? Yes. He's as like it as damn it.
<lb n="100759"/>No. The windscreen of that motorcar in the sun there. Just a flash like that.
  <lb n="100760"/>Damn like him.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100761"/>Aham! Hot spirit of juniper juice warmed his vitals and his breath.
  <lb n="100762"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Good drop of gin</said>, that was. His <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">frocktails</distinct> winked in bright sunshine to his
<lb n="100763"/>fat strut.</p>
<p><lb n="100764"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Down there Emmet was hanged, drawn and quartered. Greasy black
<lb n="100765"/>rope. Dogs licking the blood off the street when the lord lieutenant's wife
  <lb n="100766"/>drove by in her noddy.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100767"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Bad times those were. Well, well. Over and done with. Great topers
  <lb n="100768"/>too. <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">Fourbottle</distinct> men.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100769"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Let me see. Is he buried in saint Michan's? Or no, there was a
<lb n="100770"/>midnight burial in Glasnevin. Corpse brought in through a secret door in
<lb n="100771"/>the wall. Dignam is there now. Went out in a puff. Well, well. Better turn
  <lb n="100772"/>down here. Make a detour.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100773"/>Mr Kernan turned and walked down the slope of Watling street by
<lb n="100774"/>the corner of Guinness's visitors' <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">waitingroom</distinct>. Outside the Dublin
<lb n="100775"/>Distillers Company's stores an outside car without fare or <distinct type="dialect">jarvey</distinct> stood, the
<lb n="100776"/>reins knotted to the wheel. <said who="tk" aloud="false">Damn dangerous thing. Some Tipperary
  <lb n="100777"/><distinct type="dialect">bosthoon</distinct> endangering the lives of the citizens. Runaway horse.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100778"/>Denis Breen with his tomes, weary of having waited an hour in John
<lb n="100779"/>Henry Menton's office, led his wife over O'Connell bridge, bound for the
<lb n="100780"/>office of Messrs Collis and Ward.</p>
<p><lb n="100781"/>Mr Kernan approached Island street. <said who="tk" aloud="false">Times of the troubles. Must ask
<lb n="100782"/>Ned Lambert to lend me those reminiscences of sir Jonah Barrington.
<lb n="100783"/>When you look back on it all now in a kind of retrospective arrangement.
<lb n="100784"/>Gaming at Daly's. No cardsharping then. One of those fellows got his hand
<lb n="100785"/>nailed to the table by a dagger. Somewhere here lord Edward Fitzgerald
  <lb n="100786"/>escaped from major Sirr. Stables behind Moira house.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100787"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Damn good gin that was.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100788"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">Fine dashing young nobleman. Good stock, of course. That ruffian,
<lb n="100789"/>that sham squire, with his violet gloves gave him away. Course they were on
<lb n="100790"/>the wrong side. They rose in dark and evil days. Fine poem that is: Ingram.
<lb n="100791"/>They were gentlemen. Ben Dollard does sing that ballad touchingly.
  <lb n="100792"/>Masterly rendition.</said></p>
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="100793"/><l>At the siege of Ross did my father fall.</l></lg></quote>
<p><lb n="100794"/>A cavalcade in easy trot along Pembroke quay passed, outriders
<lb n="100795"/>leaping, leaping in their, in their saddles. Frockcoats. Cream sunshades.</p>
<p><lb n="100796"/>Mr Kernan hurried forward, blowing pursily.</p>
<p><lb n="100797"/><said who="tk" aloud="false">His Excellency! Too bad! Just missed that by a hair. Damn it! What a
  <lb n="100798"/>pity!</said></p>
<lb n="100799"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="13"><p><lb n="100800"/>Stephen Dedalus watched through the webbed window the lapidary's
  <lb n="100801"/>fingers prove a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">timedulled</distinct> chain. Dust webbed the window and the
  <lb n="100802"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">showtrays</distinct>. Dust darkened the toiling fingers with their vulture nails. Dust
<lb n="100803"/>slept on dull coils of bronze and silver, lozenges of cinnabar, on rubies,
  <lb n="100804"/>leprous and <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">winedark</distinct> stones.</p>
<p><lb n="100805"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Born all in the dark wormy earth, cold specks of fire, evil, lights
<lb n="100806"/>shining in the darkness. Where fallen archangels flung the stars of their
  <lb n="100807"/>brows. Muddy <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">swinesnouts</distinct>, hands, root and root, gripe and wrest them.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100808"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">She dances in a foul gloom where gum burns with garlic. A
  <lb n="100809"/>sailorman, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">rustbearded</distinct>, sips from a beaker rum and eyes her. A long and
  <lb n="100810"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">seafed</distinct> silent rut. She dances, capers, wagging her sowish haunches and her
  <lb n="100811"/>hips, on her gross belly flapping a ruby egg.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100812"/>Old Russell with a smeared <distinct type="dialect">shammy</distinct> rag burnished again his gem,
<lb n="100813"/>turned it and held it at the point of his Moses' beard. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Grandfather ape
  <lb n="100814"/>gloating on a stolen hoard.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100815"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">And you who wrest old images from the burial earth? The brainsick
<lb n="100816"/>words of sophists: Antisthenes. A lore of drugs. Orient and immortal wheat
  <lb n="100817"/>standing from everlasting to everlasting.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100818"/>Two old women fresh from their whiff of the briny trudged through
<lb n="100819"/>Irishtown along London bridge road, one with a sanded tired umbrella, one
<lb n="100820"/>with a midwife's bag in which eleven cockles rolled.</p>
<p><lb n="100821"/>The whirr of flapping leathern bands and hum of dynamos from the
<lb n="100822"/>powerhouse urged Stephen to be on. <said who="sd" aloud="false">Beingless beings. Stop! Throb always
<lb n="100823"/>without you and the throb always within. Your heart you sing of. I between
<lb n="100824"/>them. Where? Between two roaring worlds where they swirl, I. Shatter
<lb n="100825"/>them, one and both. But stun myself too in the blow. Shatter me you who
<lb n="100826"/>can. Bawd and butcher were the words. I say! Not yet awhile. A look
  <lb n="100827"/>around.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100828"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Yes, quite true. Very large and wonderful and keeps famous time. You
  <lb n="100829"/>say right, sir. A Monday morning. 'Twas so, indeed.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100830"/>Stephen went down Bedford row, the handle of the ash clacking
  <lb n="100831"/>against his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">shoulderblade</distinct>. In Clohissey's window a faded 1860 print of
<lb n="100832"/>Heenan boxing Sayers held his eye. Staring backers with square hats stood
  <lb n="100833"/>round the roped <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">prizering</distinct>. The heavyweights in tight loincloths proposed
<lb n="100834"/>gently each to other his bulbous fists. And they are throbbing: heroes'
<lb n="100835"/>hearts.</p>
<p><lb n="100836"/>He turned and halted by the slanted <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">bookcart</distinct>.
<lb n="100837"/><said who="uh">―Twopence each,</said> the huckster said. <said who="uh">Four for sixpence.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100838"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Tattered pages. <title type="magazine">The Irish Beekeeper.</title> <title type="book">Life and Miracles of the Curé of
  <lb n="100839"/>Ars.</title> <title type="book">Pocket Guide to Killarney.</title></said></p>
<p><lb n="100840"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">I might find here one of my pawned <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">schoolprizes</distinct>. <foreign xml:lang="la">Stephano Dedalo,
  <lb n="100841"/>alumno optimo, palmam ferenti.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="100842"/>Father Conmee, having read his little hours, walked through the
<lb n="100843"/>hamlet of Donnycarney, murmuring vespers.</p>
<p><lb n="100844"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Binding too good probably. What is this? Eighth and ninth book of
<lb n="100845"/>Moses. Secret of all secrets. Seal of King David. Thumbed pages: read and
<lb n="100846"/>read. Who has passed here before me? How to soften chapped hands.
<lb n="100847"/>Recipe for white wine vinegar. How to win a woman's love. For me this.
  <lb n="100848"/>Say the following talisman three times with hands folded:</said>
<lb n="100849"/><said who="sd">―<foreign xml:lang="es-ar">Se el yilo nebrakada femininum! Amor me solo! Sanktus! Amen.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="100850"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Who wrote this? Charms and invocations of the most blessed abbot
<lb n="100851"/>Peter Salanka to all true believers divulged. As good as any other abbot's
  <lb n="100852"/>charms, as mumbling Joachim's. Down, <distinct type="Joycean">baldynoddle</distinct>, or we'll wool your
  <lb n="100853"/>wool.</said>
<lb n="100854"/><said who="did">―What are you doing here, Stephen?</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100855"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Dilly's high shoulders and shabby dress.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100856"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Shut the book quick. Don't let see.</said>
<lb n="100857"/><said who="sd">―What are you doing?</said> Stephen said.</p>
<p><lb n="100858"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">A Stuart face of nonesuch Charles, lank locks falling at its sides. It
<lb n="100859"/>glowed as she crouched feeding the fire with broken boots. I told her of
  <lb n="100860"/>Paris. Late <distinct type="compound">lieabed</distinct> under a quilt of old overcoats, fingering a pinchbeck
<lb n="100861"/>bracelet, Dan Kelly's token. <foreign xml:lang="es-ar">Nebrakada femininum.</foreign></said>
<lb n="100862"/><said who="sd">―What have you there?</said> Stephen asked.
<lb n="100863"/><said who="did">―I bought it from the other cart for a penny,</said> Dilly said, laughing
<lb n="100864"/>nervously. <said who="did">Is it any good?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100865"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">My eyes they say she has. Do others see me so? Quick, far and
  <lb n="100866"/>daring. Shadow of my mind.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100867"/>He took the coverless book from her hand. <title type="book" rend="none">Chardenal's French
<lb n="100868"/>primer.</title>
<lb n="100869"/><said who="sd">―What did you buy that for?</said> he asked. <said who="sd">To learn French?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100870"/>She nodded, reddening and closing tight her lips.</p>
  <p><lb n="100871"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Show no surprise. Quite natural.</said>
<lb n="100872"/><said who="sd">―Here,</said> Stephen said. <said who="sd">It's all right. Mind Maggy doesn't pawn it on you. I
<lb n="100873"/>suppose all my books are gone.</said>
<lb n="100874"/><said who="did">―Some,</said> Dilly said. <said who="did">We had to.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100875"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">She is drowning. <ref xml:id="lb_100875">Agenbite. Save her. Agenbite.</ref> All against us. She will
<lb n="100876"/>drown me with her, eyes and hair. Lank coils of seaweed hair around me,
  <lb n="100877"/>my heart, my soul. Salt green death.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="100878"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">We.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100879"/><said who="sd" aloud="false"><ref xml:id="lb_100879">Agenbite of inwit. Inwit's agenbite.</ref></said></p>
  <p><lb n="100880"/><said who="sd" aloud="false">Misery! Misery!</said></p>
<lb n="100881"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="14"><p><lb n="100882"/><said who="fc">―Hello, Simon,</said> Father Cowley said. <said who="fc">How are things?</said>
<lb n="100883"/><said who="sid">―Hello, Bob, old man,</said> Mr Dedalus answered, stopping.</p>
<p><lb n="100884"/>They clasped hands loudly outside Reddy and Daughter's. Father
<lb n="100885"/>Cowley brushed his moustache often downward with a scooping hand.
<lb n="100886"/><said who="sid">―What's the best news?</said> Mr Dedalus said.
<lb n="100887"/><said who="fc">―Why then not much,</said> Father Cowley said. <said who="fc">I'm barricaded up, Simon, with
<lb n="100888"/>two men prowling around the house trying to effect an entrance.</said>
<lb n="100889"/><said who="sid">―Jolly,</said> Mr Dedalus said. <said who="sid">Who is it?</said>
<lb n="100890"/><said who="fc">―O,</said> Father Cowley said. <said who="fc">A certain <distinct type="dialect">gombeen</distinct> man of our acquaintance.</said>
<lb n="100891"/><said who="sid">―With a broken back, is it?</said> Mr Dedalus asked.
<lb n="100892"/><said who="fc">―The same, Simon,</said> Father Cowley answered. <said who="fc">Reuben of that ilk. I'm just
<lb n="100893"/>waiting for Ben Dollard. He's going to say a word to long John to get him
<lb n="100894"/>to take those two men off. All I want is a little time.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100895"/>He looked with vague hope up and down the quay, a big apple
<lb n="100896"/>bulging in his neck.
<lb n="100897"/><said who="sid">―I know,</said> Mr Dedalus said, nodding. <said who="sid">Poor old <distinct type="dialect">bockedy</distinct> Ben! He's always
<lb n="100898"/>doing a good turn for someone. Hold hard!</said></p>
<p><lb n="100899"/>He put on his glasses and gazed towards the metal bridge an instant.
<lb n="100900"/><said who="sid">―Here he is, by God,</said> he said, <said who="sid">arse and pockets.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100901"/>Ben Dollard's loose blue cutaway and square hat above large slops
<lb n="100902"/>crossed the quay in full gait from the metal bridge. He came towards them
<lb n="100903"/>at an amble, scratching actively behind his coattails.</p>
<p><lb n="100904"/>As he came near Mr Dedalus greeted:
<lb n="100905"/><said who="sid">―Hold that fellow with the bad trousers.</said>
<lb n="100906"/><said who="bed">―Hold him now,</said> Ben Dollard said.</p>
<p><lb n="100907"/>Mr Dedalus eyed with cold wandering scorn various points of Ben
<lb n="100908"/>Dollard's figure. Then, turning to Father Cowley with a nod, he muttered
<lb n="100909"/>sneeringly:
<lb n="100910"/><said who="sid">―That's a pretty garment, isn't it, for a summer's day?</said>
<lb n="100911"/><said who="bed">―Why, God eternally curse your soul,</said> Ben Dollard growled furiously, <said who="bed">I
<lb n="100912"/>threw out more clothes in my time than you ever saw.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100913"/>He stood beside them beaming, on them first and on his roomy
<lb n="100914"/>clothes from points of which Mr Dedalus flicked fluff, saying:
<lb n="100915"/><said who="sid">―They were made for a man in his health, Ben, anyhow.</said>
<lb n="100916"/><said who="bed">―Bad luck to the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">jewman</distinct> that made them,</said> Ben Dollard said. <said who="bed">Thanks be to
<lb n="100917"/>God he's not paid yet.</said>
<lb n="100918"/><said who="fc">―And how is that <foreign xml:lang="it">basso profondo</foreign>, Benjamin?</said> Father Cowley asked.</p>
<p><lb n="100919"/>Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, murmuring,
  <lb n="100920"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">glassyeyed</distinct>, strode past the Kildare street club.</p>
<p><lb n="100921"/>Ben Dollard frowned and, making suddenly a chanter's mouth, gave
<lb n="100922"/>forth a deep note.
<lb n="100923"/><said who="bed">―Aw!</said> he said.
<lb n="100924"/><said who="sid">―That's the style,</said> Mr Dedalus said, nodding to its drone.
<lb n="100925"/><said who="bed">―What about that?</said> Ben Dollard said. <said who="bed">Not too dusty? What?</said></p>
<p><lb n="100926"/>He turned to both.
<lb n="100927"/><said who="fc">―That'll do,</said> Father Cowley said, nodding also.</p>
<p><lb n="100928"/>The reverend Hugh C. Love walked from the old chapterhouse of
<lb n="100929"/>saint Mary's abbey past James and Charles Kennedy's, rectifiers, attended
<lb n="100930"/>by Geraldines tall and personable, towards the Tholsel beyond the ford of
<lb n="100931"/>hurdles.</p>
<p><lb n="100932"/>Ben Dollard with a heavy list towards the shopfronts led them
<lb n="100933"/>forward, his joyful fingers in the air.
<lb n="100934"/><said who="bed">―Come along with me to the <distinct type="compound">subsheriff's</distinct> office,</said> he said. <said who="bed">I want to show you
<lb n="100935"/>the new beauty Rock has for a bailiff. He's a cross between Lobengula and
<lb n="100936"/>Lynchehaun. He's well worth seeing, mind you. Come along. I saw John
<lb n="100937"/>Henry Menton casually in the Bodega just now and it will cost me a fall if I
<lb n="100938"/>don't ... Wait awhile ..... We're on the right lay, Bob, believe you me.</said>
<lb n="100939"/><said who="fc">―For a few days tell him,</said> Father Cowley said anxiously.</p>
<p><lb n="100940"/>Ben Dollard halted and stared, his loud orifice open, a dangling
<lb n="100941"/>button of his coat wagging <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">brightbacked</distinct> from its thread as he wiped away
  <lb n="100942"/>the heavy <distinct type="dialect">shraums</distinct> that clogged his eyes to hear aright.
<lb n="100943"/><said who="bed">―What few days?</said> he boomed. <said who="bed">Hasn't your landlord distrained for rent?</said>
<lb n="100944"/><said who="fc">―He has,</said> Father Cowley said.
<lb n="100945"/><said who="bed">―Then our friend's writ is not worth the paper it's printed on,</said> Ben Dollard
<lb n="100946"/>said. <said who="bed">The landlord has the prior claim. I gave him all the particulars. 29
<lb n="100947"/>Windsor avenue. Love is the name?</said>
<lb n="100948"/><said who="fc">―That's right,</said> Father Cowley said. <said who="fc">The reverend Mr Love. He's a minister
<lb n="100949"/>in the country somewhere. But are you sure of that?</said>
<lb n="100950"/><said who="bed">―You can tell Barabbas from me,</said> Ben Dollard said, <said who="bed">that he can put that
<lb n="100951"/>writ where Jacko put the nuts.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100952"/>He led Father Cowley boldly forward, linked to his bulk.
<lb n="100953"/><said who="sid">―Filberts I believe they were,</said> Mr Dedalus said, as he dropped his glasses on
  <lb n="100954"/>his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">coatfront</distinct>, following them.</p>
<lb n="100955"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="15"><p><lb n="100956"/><said who="mc">―The youngster will be all right,</said> Martin Cunningham said, as they passed
<lb n="100957"/>out of the Castleyard gate.</p>
<p><lb n="100958"/>The policeman touched his forehead.
<lb n="100959"/><said who="mc">―God bless you,</said> Martin Cunningham said, cheerily.</p>
  <p><lb n="100960"/>He signed to the waiting <distinct type="dialect">jarvey</distinct> who chucked at the reins and set on
<lb n="100961"/>towards Lord Edward street.</p>
<p><lb n="100962"/>Bronze by gold, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head,
  <lb n="100963"/>appeared above the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">crossblind</distinct> of the Ormond hotel.
<lb n="100964"/><said who="mc">―Yes,</said> Martin Cunningham said, fingering his beard. <said who="mc">I wrote to Father
<lb n="100965"/>Conmee and laid the whole case before him.</said>
<lb n="100966"/><said who="jp">―You could try our friend,</said> Mr Power suggested backward.
<lb n="100967"/><said who="mc">―Boyd?</said> Martin Cunningham said shortly. <said who="mc">Touch me not.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100968"/>John Wyse Nolan, lagging behind, reading the list, came after them
<lb n="100969"/>quickly down Cork hill.</p>
<p><lb n="100970"/>On the steps of the City hall Councillor Nannetti, descending, hailed
<lb n="100971"/>Alderman Cowley and Councillor Abraham Lyon ascending.</p>
<p><lb n="100972"/>The castle car wheeled empty into upper Exchange street.
<lb n="100973"/><said who="jwn">―Look here, Martin,</said> John Wyse Nolan said, overtaking them at the <title type="newspaper">Mail</title>
<lb n="100974"/>office. <said who="jwn">I see Bloom put his name down for five shillings.</said>
<lb n="100975"/><said who="mc">―Quite right,</said> Martin Cunningham said, taking the list. <said who="mc">And put down the
<lb n="100976"/>five shillings too.</said>
<lb n="100977"/><said who="jp">―Without a second word either,</said> Mr Power said.
<lb n="100978"/><said who="mc">―Strange but true,</said> Martin Cunningham added.</p>
<p><lb n="100979"/>John Wyse Nolan opened wide eyes.
<lb n="100980"/><said who="jwn">―I'll say there is much kindness in the jew,</said> he quoted, elegantly.</p>
<p><lb n="100981"/>They went down Parliament street.
<lb n="100982"/><said who="jp">―There's Jimmy Henry,</said> Mr Power said, <said who="jp">just heading for Kavanagh's.</said>
<lb n="100983"/><said who="mc">―Righto,</said> Martin Cunningham said. <said who="mc">Here goes.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100984"/>Outside la maison Claire Blazes Boylan waylaid Jack Mooney's
<lb n="100985"/>brother-in-law, humpy, tight, making for the liberties.</p>
<p><lb n="100986"/>John Wyse Nolan fell back with Mr Power, while Martin
<lb n="100987"/>Cunningham took the elbow of a dapper little man in a shower of hail suit,
<lb n="100988"/>who walked uncertainly, with hasty steps past Micky Anderson's watches.
<lb n="100989"/><said who="jwn">―The assistant town clerk's corns are giving him some trouble,</said> John Wyse
<lb n="100990"/>Nolan told Mr Power.</p>
<p><lb n="100991"/>They followed round the corner towards James Kavanagh's
  <lb n="100992"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">winerooms</distinct>. The empty castle car fronted them at rest in Essex gate. Martin
<lb n="100993"/>Cunningham, speaking always, showed often the list at which Jimmy Henry
<lb n="100994"/>did not glance.
<lb n="100995"/><said who="jwn">―And long John Fanning is here too,</said> John Wyse Nolan said, <said who="jwn">as large as
<lb n="100996"/>life.</said></p>
<p><lb n="100997"/>The tall form of long John Fanning filled the doorway where he
<lb n="100998"/>stood.
<lb n="100999"/><said who="mc">―Good day, Mr Subsheriff,</said> Martin Cunningham said, as all halted and
<lb n="101000"/>greeted.</p>
<p><lb n="101001"/>Long John Fanning made no way for them. He removed his large
<lb n="101002"/>Henry Clay decisively and his large fierce eyes scowled intelligently over all
<lb n="101003"/>their faces.
<lb n="101004"/><said who="jf">―Are the conscript fathers pursuing their peaceful deliberations?</said> he said
<lb n="101005"/>with rich acrid utterance to the assistant town clerk.</p>
<p><lb n="101006"/>Hell open to christians they were having, Jimmy Henry said pettishly,
<lb n="101007"/>about their damned Irish language. Where was the marshal, he wanted to
<lb n="101008"/>know, to keep order in the council chamber. And old Barlow the
<lb n="101009"/>macebearer laid up with asthma, no mace on the table, nothing in order, no
<lb n="101010"/>quorum even, and Hutchinson, the lord mayor, in Llandudno and little
<lb n="101011"/>Lorcan Sherlock doing <foreign xml:lang="la">locum tenens</foreign> for him. Damned Irish language,
<lb n="101012"/>language of our forefathers.</p>
<p><lb n="101013"/>Long John Fanning blew a plume of smoke from his lips.</p>
<p><lb n="101014"/>Martin Cunningham spoke by turns, twirling the peak of his beard, to
  <lb n="101015"/>the assistant town clerk and the <distinct type="compound">subsheriff</distinct>, while John Wyse Nolan held his
<lb n="101016"/>peace.
<lb n="101017"/><said who="jf">―What Dignam was that?</said> long John Fanning asked.</p>
<p><lb n="101018"/>Jimmy Henry made a grimace and lifted his left foot.
<lb n="101019"/><said who="jih">―O, my corns!</said> he said plaintively. <said who="jih">Come upstairs for goodness' sake till I
<lb n="101020"/>sit down somewhere. Uff! Ooo! Mind!</said></p>
<p><lb n="101021"/>Testily he made room for himself beside long John Fanning's flank
<lb n="101022"/>and passed in and up the stairs.
<lb n="101023"/><said who="mc">―Come on up,</said> Martin Cunningham said to the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">subsheriff</distinct>. <said who="mc">I don't think
<lb n="101024"/>you knew him or perhaps you did, though.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101025"/>With John Wyse Nolan Mr Power followed them in.
<lb n="101026"/><said who="jp">―Decent little soul he was,</said> Mr Power said to the stalwart back of long John
<lb n="101027"/>Fanning ascending towards long John Fanning in the mirror.
  <lb n="101028"/><said who="mc">―Rather <distinct type="compound">lowsized</distinct>. Dignam of Menton's office that was,</said> Martin
<lb n="101029"/>Cunningham said.</p>
<p><lb n="101030"/>Long John Fanning could not remember him.</p>
  <p><lb n="101031"/>Clatter of <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">horsehoofs</distinct> sounded from the air.
<lb n="101032"/><said who="mc">―What's that?</said> Martin Cunningham said.</p>
<p><lb n="101033"/>All turned where they stood. John Wyse Nolan came down again.
<lb n="101034"/>From the cool shadow of the doorway he saw the horses pass Parliament
<lb n="101035"/>street, harness and glossy pasterns in sunlight shimmering. Gaily they went
<lb n="101036"/>past before his cool unfriendly eyes, not quickly. In saddles of the leaders,
<lb n="101037"/>leaping leaders, rode outriders.
<lb n="101038"/><said who="mc">―What was it?</said> Martin Cunningham asked, as they went on up the
<lb n="101039"/>staircase.
<lb n="101040"/><said who="jwn">―The lord <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lieutenantgeneral</distinct> and general governor of Ireland,</said> John Wyse
  <lb n="101041"/>Nolan answered from the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">stairfoot</distinct>.</p>
<lb n="101042"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="16"><p><lb n="101043"/>As they trod across the thick carpet Buck Mulligan whispered behind
<lb n="101044"/>his Panama to Haines:
<lb n="101045"/><said who="bm">―Parnell's brother. There in the corner.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101046"/>They chose a small table near the window, opposite a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">longfaced</distinct> man
<lb n="101047"/>whose beard and gaze hung intently down on a chessboard.
<lb n="101048"/><said who="ha">―Is that he?</said> Haines asked, twisting round in his seat.
<lb n="101049"/><said who="bm">―Yes,</said> Mulligan said. <said who="bm">That's John Howard, his brother, our city marshal.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101050"/>John Howard Parnell translated a white bishop quietly and his grey
<lb n="101051"/>claw went up again to his forehead whereat it rested. An instant after, under
<lb n="101052"/>its screen, his eyes looked quickly, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ghostbright</distinct>, at his foe and fell once more
<lb n="101053"/>upon a working corner.
<lb n="101054"/><said who="ha">―I'll take a <foreign xml:lang="fr">mélange</foreign>,</said> Haines said to the waitress.
<lb n="101055"/><said who="bm">―Two <foreign xml:lang="fr">mélanges</foreign>,</said> Buck Mulligan said. <said who="bm">And bring us some scones and butter
<lb n="101056"/>and some cakes as well.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101057"/>When she had gone he said, laughing:
<lb n="101058"/><said who="bm">―We call it D. B. C. because they have damn bad cakes. O, but you missed
<lb n="101059"/>Dedalus on <title type="play">Hamlet</title>.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="101060"/>Haines opened his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">newbought</distinct> book.
<lb n="101061"/><said who="ha">―I'm sorry,</said> he said. <said who="ha">Shakespeare is the happy <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">huntingground</distinct> of all minds
<lb n="101062"/>that have lost their balance.</said></p>
  <p><lb n="101063"/>The <distinct type="compound">onelegged</distinct> sailor growled at the area of 14 Nelson street:
<lb n="101064"/><said who="usr">―<quote type="song">England expects</quote> .....</said></p>
<p><lb n="101065"/>Buck Mulligan's primrose waistcoat shook gaily to his laughter.
<lb n="101066"/><said who="bm">―You should see him,</said> he said, <said who="bm">when his body loses its balance. Wandering
<lb n="101067"/>Aengus I call him.</said>
<lb n="101068"/><said who="ha">―I am sure he has an <foreign xml:lang="fr">idée fixe</foreign>,</said> Haines said, pinching his chin thoughtfully
<lb n="101069"/>with thumb and forefinger. <said who="ha">Now I am speculating what it would be likely to
<lb n="101070"/>be. Such persons always have.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101071"/>Buck Mulligan bent across the table gravely.
<lb n="101072"/><said who="bm">―They drove his wits astray,</said> he said, <said who="bm">by visions of hell. He will never
<lb n="101073"/>capture the Attic note. The note of Swinburne, of all poets, the white death
<lb n="101074"/>and the ruddy birth. That is his tragedy. He can never be a poet. The joy of
<lb n="101075"/>creation ....</said>
<lb n="101076"/><said who="ha">―Eternal punishment,</said> Haines said, nodding curtly. <said who="ha">I see. I tackled him this
<lb n="101077"/>morning on belief. There was something on his mind, I saw. It's rather
<lb n="101078"/>interesting because professor Pokorny of Vienna makes an interesting point
<lb n="101079"/>out of that.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101080"/>Buck Mulligan's watchful eyes saw the waitress come. He helped her
<lb n="101081"/>to unload her tray.
<lb n="101082"/><said who="ha">―He can find no trace of hell in ancient Irish myth,</said> Haines said, amid the
<lb n="101083"/>cheerful cups. <said who="ha">The moral idea seems lacking, the sense of destiny, of
<lb n="101084"/>retribution. Rather strange he should have just that fixed idea. Does he
<lb n="101085"/>write anything for your movement?</said></p>
<p><lb n="101086"/>He sank two lumps of sugar deftly longwise through the whipped
<lb n="101087"/>cream. Buck Mulligan slit a steaming scone in two and plastered butter over
<lb n="101088"/>its smoking pith. He bit off a soft piece hungrily.
<lb n="101089"/><said who="bm">―Ten years,</said> he said, chewing and laughing. <said who="bm">He is going to write something
<lb n="101090"/>in ten years.</said>
<lb n="101091"/><said who="ha">―Seems a long way off,</said> Haines said, thoughtfully lifting his spoon. <said who="ha">Still, I
<lb n="101092"/>shouldn't wonder if he did after all.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101093"/>He tasted a spoonful from the creamy cone of his cup.
<lb n="101094"/><said who="ha">―This is real Irish cream I take it,</said> he said with forbearance. <said who="ha">I don't want to
<lb n="101095"/>be imposed on.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101096"/>Elijah, skiff, light crumpled throwaway, sailed eastward by flanks of
<lb n="101097"/>ships and trawlers, amid an archipelago of corks, beyond new Wapping
<lb n="101098"/>street past Benson's ferry, and by the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">threemasted</distinct> schooner <name type="ship">Rosevean</name> from
<lb n="101099"/>Bridgwater with bricks.</p>
<lb n="101100"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="17"><p><lb n="101101"/>Almidano Artifoni walked past Holles street, past Sewell's yard.
<lb n="101102"/>Behind him Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, with
  <lb n="101103"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">stickumbrelladustcoat</distinct> dangling, shunned the lamp before Mr Law Smith's
<lb n="101104"/>house and, crossing, walked along Merrion square. Distantly behind him a
<lb n="101105"/>blind stripling tapped his way by the wall of College park.</p>
<p><lb n="101106"/>Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell walked as far as
<lb n="101107"/>Mr Lewis Werner's cheerful windows, then turned and strode back along
<lb n="101108"/>Merrion square, his <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">stickumbrelladustcoat</distinct> dangling.</p>
<p><lb n="101109"/>At the corner of Wilde's house he halted, frowned at Elijah's name
<lb n="101110"/>announced on the Metropolitan hall, frowned at the distant pleasance of
<lb n="101111"/>duke's lawn. His eyeglass flashed frowning in the sun. With <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">ratsteeth</distinct> bared
<lb n="101112"/>he muttered:
<lb n="101113"/><said who="cbocftf">―<foreign xml:lang="la">Coactus volui.</foreign></said></p>
<p><lb n="101114"/>He strode on for Clare street, grinding his fierce word.</p>
<p><lb n="101115"/>As he strode past Mr Bloom's dental windows the sway of his
<lb n="101116"/>dustcoat brushed rudely from its angle a slender tapping cane and swept
  <lb n="101117"/>onwards, having buffeted a <distinct type="archaism">thewless</distinct> body. The blind stripling turned his
<lb n="101118"/>sickly face after the striding form.
<lb n="101119"/><said who="ubst">―God's curse on you,</said> he said sourly, <said who="ubst">whoever you are! You're blinder nor
<lb n="101120"/>I am, you bitch's bastard!</said></p>
<lb n="101121"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="18"><p><lb n="101122"/>Opposite Ruggy O'Donohoe's Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam,
<lb n="101123"/>pawing the pound and a half of Mangan's, late Fehrenbach's, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">porksteaks</distinct> he
<lb n="101124"/>had been sent for, went along warm Wicklow street dawdling. It was too
<lb n="101125"/>blooming dull sitting in the parlour with Mrs Stoer and Mrs Quigley and
<lb n="101126"/>Mrs MacDowell and the blind down and they all at their sniffles and
<lb n="101127"/>sipping sups of the superior tawny sherry uncle Barney brought from
<lb n="101128"/>Tunney's. And they eating crumbs of the cottage fruitcake, jawing the
<lb n="101129"/>whole blooming time and sighing.</p>
<p><lb n="101130"/>After Wicklow lane the window of Madame Doyle, <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">courtdress</distinct>
<lb n="101131"/>milliner, stopped him. He stood looking in at the two puckers stripped to
<lb n="101132"/>their pelts and putting up their props. From the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sidemirrors</distinct> two mourning
<lb n="101133"/>Masters Dignam gaped silently. Myler Keogh, Dublin's pet lamb, will meet
  <lb n="101134"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">sergeantmajor</distinct> Bennett, the Portobello bruiser, for a purse of fifty
  <lb n="101135"/>sovereigns. <said who="mpad" aloud="false"><distinct type="dialect">Gob</distinct>, that'd be a good <distinct type="dialect">pucking</distinct> match to see. Myler Keogh,
<lb n="101136"/>that's the chap sparring out to him with the green sash. Two bar entrance,
  <lb n="101137"/>soldiers half price. I could easy do a bunk on ma.</said> Master Dignam on his left
<lb n="101138"/>turned as he turned. <said who="mpad" aloud="false">That's me in mourning. When is it? May the
  <lb n="101139"/><distinct type="compound">twentysecond</distinct>. Sure, the blooming thing is all over.</said> He turned to the right
<lb n="101140"/>and on his right Master Dignam turned, his cap awry, his collar sticking up.
<lb n="101141"/>Buttoning it down, his chin lifted, he saw the image of Marie Kendall,
<lb n="101142"/>charming soubrette, beside the two puckers. <said who="mpad" aloud="false">One of them mots that do be in
<lb n="101143"/>the packets of fags Stoer smokes that his old fellow welted hell out of him
  <lb n="101144"/>for one time he found out.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101145"/>Master Dignam got his collar down and dawdled on. <said who="mpad" aloud="false">The best pucker
<lb n="101146"/>going for strength was Fitzsimons. One puck in the wind from that fellow
<lb n="101147"/>would knock you into the middle of next week, man. But the best pucker
<lb n="101148"/>for science was Jem Corbet before Fitzsimons knocked the stuffings out of
  <lb n="101149"/>him, dodging and all.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101150"/>In Grafton street Master Dignam saw a red flower in a <distinct type="dialect">toff's</distinct> mouth
<lb n="101151"/>and a swell pair of kicks on him and he listening to what the drunk was
<lb n="101152"/>telling him and grinning all the time.</p>
  <p><lb n="101153"/><said who="mpad" aloud="false">No Sandymount tram.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101154"/>Master Dignam walked along Nassau street, shifted the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">porksteaks</distinct> to
<lb n="101155"/>his other hand. His collar sprang up again and he tugged it down. The
<lb n="101156"/>blooming stud was too small for the buttonhole of the shirt, blooming end
<lb n="101157"/>to it. He met schoolboys with satchels. <said who="mpad" aloud="false">I'm not going tomorrow either, stay
  <lb n="101158"/>away till Monday.</said> He met other schoolboys. <said who="mpad" aloud="false">Do they notice I'm in
<lb n="101159"/>mourning? Uncle Barney said he'd get it into the paper tonight. Then
  <lb n="101160"/>they'll all see it in the paper and read my name printed and pa's name.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101161"/><said who="mpad" aloud="false">His face got all grey instead of being red like it was and there was a
<lb n="101162"/>fly walking over it up to his eye. The scrunch that was when they were
<lb n="101163"/>screwing the screws into the coffin: and the bumps when they were bringing
  <lb n="101164"/>it downstairs.</said></p>
<p><lb n="101165"/><said who="mpad" aloud="false">Pa was inside it and ma crying in the parlour and uncle Barney telling
<lb n="101166"/>the men how to get it round the bend. A big coffin it was, and high and
  <lb n="101167"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">heavylooking</distinct>. How was that? The last night pa was <distinct type="dialect">boosed</distinct> he was standing
<lb n="101168"/>on the landing there bawling out for his boots to go out to Tunney's for to
  <lb n="101169"/><distinct type="dialect">boose</distinct> more and he looked <distinct type="dialect">butty</distinct> and short in his shirt. Never see him again.
<lb n="101170"/>Death, that is. Pa is dead. My father is dead. He told me to be a good son to
<lb n="101171"/>ma. I couldn't hear the other things he said but I saw his tongue and his
<lb n="101172"/>teeth trying to say it better. Poor pa. That was Mr Dignam, my father. I
<lb n="101173"/>hope he's in purgatory now because he went to confession to Father
  <lb n="101174"/>Conroy on Saturday night.</said></p>
<lb n="101175"/><trailer>* * *</trailer></div>
<div type="section" n="19"><p><lb n="101176"/>William Humble, earl of Dudley, and lady Dudley, accompanied by
  <lb n="101177"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lieutenantcolonel</distinct> Heseltine, drove out after luncheon from the viceregal
<lb n="101178"/>lodge. In the following carriage were the honourable Mrs Paget, Miss de
<lb n="101179"/>Courcy and the honourable Gerald Ward A. D. C. in attendance.</p>
<p><lb n="101180"/>The cavalcade passed out by the lower gate of Phoenix park saluted
<lb n="101181"/>by obsequious policemen and proceeded past Kingsbridge along the
<lb n="101182"/>northern quays. The viceroy was most cordially greeted on his way through
<lb n="101183"/>the metropolis. At Bloody bridge Mr Thomas Kernan beyond the river
<lb n="101184"/>greeted him vainly from afar. Between Queen's and Whitworth bridges lord
<lb n="101185"/>Dudley's viceregal carriages passed and were unsaluted by Mr Dudley
<lb n="101186"/>White, B. L., M. A., who stood on Arran quay outside Mrs M. E. White's,
<lb n="101187"/>the pawnbroker's, at the corner of Arran street west stroking his nose with
<lb n="101188"/>his forefinger, undecided whether he should arrive at Phibsborough more
<lb n="101189"/>quickly by a triple change of tram or by hailing a car or on foot through
<lb n="101190"/>Smithfield, Constitution hill and Broadstone terminus. In the porch of Four
<lb n="101191"/>Courts Richie Goulding with the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">costbag</distinct> of Goulding, Collis and Ward saw
<lb n="101192"/>him with surprise. Past Richmond bridge at the doorstep of the office of
<lb n="101193"/>Reuben J Dodd, solicitor, agent for the Patriotic Insurance Company, an
<lb n="101194"/>elderly female about to enter changed her plan and retracing her steps by
<lb n="101195"/>King's windows smiled credulously on the representative of His Majesty.
<lb n="101196"/>From its sluice in Wood quay wall under Tom Devan's office Poddle river
<lb n="101197"/>hung out in fealty a tongue of liquid sewage. Above the <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">crossblind</distinct> of the
<lb n="101198"/>Ormond hotel, gold by bronze, Miss Kennedy's head by Miss Douce's head
<lb n="101199"/>watched and admired. On Ormond quay Mr Simon Dedalus, steering his
  <lb n="101200"/>way from the greenhouse for the <distinct type="compound">subsheriff's</distinct> office, stood still in <distinct type="compound">midstreet</distinct>
<lb n="101201"/>and brought his hat low. His Excellency graciously returned Mr Dedalus'
<lb n="101202"/>greeting. From Cahill's corner the reverend Hugh C. Love, M. A., made
<lb n="101203"/>obeisance unperceived, mindful of lords deputies whose hands benignant
<lb n="101204"/>had held of yore rich advowsons. On Grattan bridge Lenehan and M'Coy,
<lb n="101205"/>taking leave of each other, watched the carriages go by. Passing by Roger
<lb n="101206"/>Greene's office and Dollard's big red <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">printinghouse</distinct> Gerty MacDowell,
  <lb n="101207"/>carrying the Catesby's cork <distinct type="dialect">lino</distinct> letters for her father who was laid up,
<lb n="101208"/>knew by the style it was the lord and lady lieutenant but she couldn't see
<lb n="101209"/>what Her Excellency had on because the tram and Spring's big yellow
<lb n="101210"/>furniture van had to stop in front of her on account of its being the lord
<lb n="101211"/>lieutenant. Beyond Lundy Foot's from the shaded door of Kavanagh's
  <lb n="101212"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">winerooms</distinct> John Wyse Nolan smiled with unseen coldness towards the lord
  <lb n="101213"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lieutenantgeneral</distinct> and general governor of Ireland. The Right Honourable
<lb n="101214"/>William Humble, earl of Dudley, G. C. V. O., passed Micky Anderson's
  <lb n="101215"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">alltimesticking</distinct> watches and Henry and James's wax <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">smartsuited</distinct>
  <lb n="101216"/><distinct type="nonstandard-compound">freshcheeked</distinct> models, the gentleman Henry, <foreign xml:lang="fr">dernier cri</foreign> James. Over against
<lb n="101217"/>Dame gate Tom Rochford and Nosey Flynn watched the approach of the
<lb n="101218"/>cavalcade. Tom Rochford, seeing the eyes of lady Dudley fixed on him,
<lb n="101219"/>took his thumbs quickly out of the pockets of his claret waistcoat and
<lb n="101220"/>doffed his cap to her. A charming soubrette, great Marie Kendall, with
<lb n="101221"/>dauby cheeks and lifted skirt smiled daubily from her poster upon William
<lb n="101222"/>Humble, earl of Dudley, and upon <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">lieutenantcolonel</distinct> H. G. Heseltine, and
<lb n="101223"/>also upon the honourable Gerald Ward A. D. C. From the window of the
<lb n="101224"/>D. B. C. Buck Mulligan gaily, and Haines gravely, gazed down on the
<lb n="101225"/>viceregal equipage over the shoulders of eager guests, whose mass of forms
<lb n="101226"/>darkened the chessboard whereon John Howard Parnell looked intently. In
<lb n="101227"/>Fownes's street Dilly Dedalus, straining her sight upward from
<lb n="101228"/>Chardenal's first French primer, saw sunshades spanned and <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">wheelspokes</distinct>
<lb n="101229"/>spinning in the glare. John Henry Menton, filling the doorway of
<lb n="101230"/>Commercial Buildings, stared from <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">winebig</distinct> oyster eyes, holding a fat gold
<lb n="101231"/>hunter watch not looked at in his fat left hand not feeling it. Where the
<lb n="101232"/>foreleg of King Billy's horse pawed the air Mrs Breen plucked her
<lb n="101233"/>hastening husband back from under the hoofs of the outriders. She shouted
<lb n="101234"/>in his ear the tidings. Understanding, he shifted his tomes to his left breast
<lb n="101235"/>and saluted the second carriage. The honourable Gerald Ward A. D. C.,
<lb n="101236"/>agreeably surprised, made haste to reply. At Ponsonby's corner a jaded
<lb n="101237"/>white flagon H. halted and four <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">tallhatted</distinct> white flagons halted behind him,
<lb n="101238"/>E. L. Y'S, while outriders pranced past and carriages. Opposite Pigott's
<lb n="101239"/>music warerooms Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing &amp;c, gaily
<lb n="101240"/>apparelled, gravely walked, outpassed by a viceroy and unobserved. By the
<lb n="101241"/>provost's wall came jauntily Blazes Boylan, stepping in tan shoes and socks
  <lb n="101242"/>with <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">skyblue</distinct> clocks to the refrain of <title type="song">My girl's a Yorkshire girl</title>. Blazes
<lb n="101243"/>Boylan presented to the leaders' <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">skyblue</distinct> frontlets and high action a <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">skyblue</distinct>
  <lb n="101244"/>tie, a <distinct type="compound">widebrimmed</distinct> straw hat at a rakish angle and a suit of indigo serge.
<lb n="101245"/>His hands in his jacket pockets forgot to salute but he offered to the three
<lb n="101246"/>ladies the bold admiration of his eyes and the red flower between his lips. As
<lb n="101247"/>they drove along Nassau street His Excellency drew the attention of his
<lb n="101248"/>bowing consort to the programme of music which was being discoursed in
  <lb n="101249"/>College park. Unseen brazen highland <distinct type="dialect">laddies</distinct> blared and <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">drumthumped</distinct>
<lb n="101250"/>after the cortège:
<quote><lg rend="italics"><lb n="101251"/><l>But though she's a factory lass</l>
<lb n="101252"/><l>And wears no fancy clothes.</l>
<lb n="101253"/><l>Baraabum.</l>
<lb n="101254"/><l>Yet I've a sort of a</l>
<lb n="101255"/><l>Yorkshire relish for</l>
<lb n="101256"/><l>My little Yorkshire rose.</l>
<lb n="101257"/><l>Baraabum.</l></lg></quote>
  <lb n="101258"/>Thither of the wall the <distinct type="compound">quartermile</distinct> flat handicappers, M. C. Green, H.
<lb n="101259"/>Thrift, T. M. Patey, C. Scaife, J. B. Jeffs, G. N. Morphy, F. Stevenson, C.
<lb n="101260"/>Adderly and W. C. Huggard, started in pursuit. Striding past Finn's hotel
<lb n="101261"/>Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell stared through a fierce
<lb n="101262"/>eyeglass across the carriages at the head of Mr M. E. Solomons in the
<lb n="101263"/>window of the Austro-Hungarian <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">viceconsulate</distinct>. Deep in Leinster street by
<lb n="101264"/>Trinity's postern a loyal king's man, Hornblower, touched his tallyho cap.
<lb n="101265"/>As the glossy horses pranced by Merrion square Master Patrick Aloysius
<lb n="101266"/>Dignam, waiting, saw salutes being given to the gent with the topper and
<lb n="101267"/>raised also his new black cap with fingers greased by <distinct type="nonstandard-compound">porksteak</distinct> paper. His
<lb n="101268"/>collar too sprang up. The viceroy, on his way to inaugurate the Mirus
<lb n="101269"/>bazaar in aid of funds for Mercer's hospital, drove with his following
<lb n="101270"/>towards Lower Mount street. He passed a blind stripling opposite
<lb n="101271"/>Broadbent's. In Lower Mount street a pedestrian in a brown macintosh,
<lb n="101272"/>eating dry bread, passed swiftly and unscathed across the viceroy's path. At
<lb n="101273"/>the Royal Canal bridge, from his hoarding, Mr Eugene Stratton, his blub
<lb n="101274"/>lips agrin, bade all comers welcome to Pembroke township. At Haddington
<lb n="101275"/>road corner two sanded women halted themselves, an umbrella and a bag in
<lb n="101276"/>which eleven cockles rolled to view with wonder the lord mayor and lady
<lb n="101277"/>mayoress without his golden chain. On Northumberland and Lansdowne
<lb n="101278"/>roads His Excellency acknowledged punctually salutes from rare male
<lb n="101279"/>walkers, the salute of two small schoolboys at the garden gate of the house
<lb n="101280"/>said to have been admired by the late queen when visiting the Irish capital
<lb n="101281"/>with her husband, the prince consort, in 1849 and the salute of Almidano
<lb n="101282"/>Artifoni's sturdy trousers swallowed by a closing door.</p></div>
</div> <!-- End of Episode 10, "Wandering Rocks" -->