尤利西斯-第28章

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n　the　world。　And　that　other　old　mosey　lunatic　in　those　duds。　Hard　time　she　must　have　with　him。　
U。P。：　up。　I'll　take　my　oath　that's　Alf　Bergan　or　Richie　Goulding。　Wrote　it　for　a　lark　in　the　Scotch　house；　I　bet　anything。　Round　to　Menton's　office。　His　oyster　eyes　staring　at　the　postcard。　Be　a　feast　for　the　gods。　
He　passed　the　Irish　Times。　There　might　be　other　answers　lying　there。　Like　to　answer　them　all。　Good　system　for　criminals。　Code。　At　their　lunch　now。　Clerk　with　the　glasses　there　doesn't　know　me。　O；　leave　them　there　to　simmer。　Enough　bother　wading　through　forty…four　of　them。　Wanted　smart　lady　typist　to　aid　gentleman　in　literary　work。　I　called　you　naughty　darling　because　I　do　not　like　that　other　world。　Please　tell　me　what　is　the　meaning。　Please　tell　me　what　perfume　does　your　wife。　Tell　me　who　made　the　world。　The　way　they　spring　those　questions　on　you。　And　the　other　one　Lizzie　Twigg。　My　literary　efforts　have　had　the　good　fortune　to　meet　with　the　approval　of　the　eminent　poet　A。　E。　（Mr　Geo　Russell）。　No　time　to　do　her　hair　drinking　sloppy　tea　with　a　book　of　poetry。　
Best　paper　by　long　chalks　for　a　small　ad。　Got　the　provinces　now。　Cook　and　general；　exc　cuisine；　housemaid　kept。　Wanted　live　man　for　spirit　counter。　Resp　girl　（R。　C。）　wishes　to　hear　of　post　in　fruit　or　pork　shop。　James　Carlisle　made　that。　Six　and　a　half　percent　dividend。　Made　a　big　deal　on　Coates's　shares。　Ca'canny。　Cunning　old　Scotch　hunks。　All　the　toady　news。　Our　gracious　and　popular　vicereine。　Bought　the　Irish　Field　now。　Lady　Mountcashel　has　quite　recovered　after　her　confinement　and　rode　out　with　the　Ward　Union　staghounds　at　the　enlargement　yesterday　at　Rathoath。　Uneatable　fox。　Pothunters　too。　Fear　injects　juices　make　it　tender　enough　for　them。　Riding　astride。　Sit　her　horse　like　a　man。　Weightcarrying　huntress。　No　sidesaddle　or　pillion　for　her；　not　for　Joe。　First　to　the　meet　and　in　at　the　death。　Strong　as　a　brood　mare　some　of　those　horsey　women。　Swagger　around　livery　stables。　Toss　off　a　glass　of　brandy　neat　while　you'd　say　knife。　That　one　at　the　Grosvenor　this　morning。　Up　with　her　on　the　car：　wishwish。　Stonewall　or　fivebarred　gate　put　her　mount　to　it。　Think　that　pugnosed　driver　did　it　out　of　spite。　Who　is　this　she　was　like？　O　yes？　Mrs　Miriam　Dandrade　that　sold　me　her　old　wraps　and　black　underclothes　in　the　Shelbourne　hotel。　Divorced　Spanish　American。　Didn't　take　a　feather　out　of　her　my　handling　them。　As　if　I　was　her　clotheshorse。　Saw　her　in　the　viceregal　party　when　Stubbs　the　park　ranger　got　me　in　with　Whelan　of　the　Express。　Scavenging　what　the　quality　left。　High　tea。　Mayonnaise　I　poured　on　the　plums　thinking　it　was　custard。　Her　ears　ought　to　have　tingled　for　a　few　weeks　after。　Want　to　be　a　bull　for　her。　Born　courtesan。　No　nursery　work　for　her；　thanks。　
Poor　Mrs　Purefoy！　Methodist　husband。　Method　in　his　madness。　Saffron　bun　and　milk　and　soda　lunch　in　the　educational　dairy。　Eating　with　a　stopwatch；　thirtytwo　chews　to　the　minute。　Still　his　muttonchop　whiskers　grew。　Supposed　to　be　well　connected。　Theodore's　cousin　in　Dublin　Castle。　One　tony　relative　in　every　family。　Hardy　annuals　he　presents　her　with。　Saw　him　out　at　the　Three　Jolly　Topers　marching　along　bareheaded　and　his　eldest　boy　carrying　one　in　a　marketnet。　The　squallers。　Poor　thing！　Then　having　to　give　the　breast　year　after　year　all　hours　of　the　night。　Selfish　those　t。t's　are。　Dog　in　the　manger。　Only　one　lump　of　sugar　in　my　tea；　if　you　please。　
He　stood　at　Fleet　street　crossing。　Luncheon　interval　a　sixpenny　at　Rowe's？　Must　look　up　that　ad　in　the　national　library。　An　eightpenny　in　the　Burton。　Better。　On　my　way。　
He　walked　on　past　Bolton's　Westmoreland　house。　Tea。　Tea。　Tea。　I　forgot　to　tap　Tom　Kernan。　
Sss。　Dth；　dth；　dth！　Three　days　imagine　groaning　on　a　bed　with　a　vinegared　handkerchief　round　her　forehead；　her　belly　swollen　out！　Phew！　Dreadful　simply！　Child's　head　too　big：　forceps。　Doubled　up　inside　her　trying　to　butt　its　way　out　blindly；　groping　for　the　way　out。　Kill　me　that　would。　Lucky　Molly　got　over　hers　lightly。　They　ought　to　invent　something　to　stop　that。　Life　with　hard　labour。　Twilightsleep　idea：　queen　Victoria　was　given　that。　Nine　she　had。　A　good　layer。　Old　woman　that　lived　in　a　shoe　she　had　so　many　children。　Suppose　he　was　consumptive。　Time　someone　thought　about　it　instead　of　gassing　about　the　what　was　it　the　pensive　bosom　of　the　silver　effulgence。　Flapdoodle　to　feed　fools　on。　They　could　easily　have　big　establishments。　Whole　thing　quite　painless　out　of　all　the　taxes　give　every　child　born　five　quid　at　pound　interest　up　to　twentyone；　five　per　cent　is　a　hundred　shillings　and　five　tiresome　pounds；　multiply　by　twenty　decimal　system；　encourage　people　to　put　by　money　save　hundred　and　ten　and　a　bit　twentyone　years　want　to　work　it　out　on　paper　e　to　a　tidy　sum；　more　than　you　think。　
Not　stillborn　of　course。　They　are　not　even　registered。　Trouble　for　nothing。　
Funny　sight　two　of　them　together；　their　bellies　out。　Molly　and　Mrs　Moisel。　Mothers'　meeting。　Phthisis　retires　for　the　time　being；　then　returns。　How　flat　they　look　after　all　of　a　sudden！　Peaceful　eyes。　Weight　off　their　minds。　Old　Mrs　Thornton　was　a　jolly　old　soul。　All　my　babies；　she　said。　The　spoon　of　pap　in　her　mouth　before　she　fed　them。　O；　that's　nyumyum。　Got　her　hand　crushed　by　old　Tom　Wall's　son。　His　first　bow　to　the　public。　Head　like　a　prize　pumpkin。　Snuffy　Dr　Murren。　People　knocking　them　up　at　all　hours。　For　God'sake　doctor。　Wife　In　her　throes。　Then　keep　them　waiting　months　for　their　fee。　To　attendance　on　your　wife。　No　gratitude　in　people。　Humane　doctors；　most　of　them。　
Before　the　huge　high　door　of　the　Irish　house　of　parliament　a　flock　of　pigeons　flew。　Their　little　frolic　after　meals。　Who　will　we　do　it　on？　I　pick　the　fellow　in　black。　Here　goes。　Here's　good　luck。　Must　be　thrilling　from　the　air。　Apjohn；　myself　and　Owen　Goldberg　up　in　the　trees　near　Goose　green　playing　the　monkeys。　Mackerel　they　called　me。　
A　squad　of　constables　debouched　from　College　street；　marching　in　Indian　file。　Goose　step。　Foodheated　faces；　sweating　helmets；　patting　their　truncheons。　After　their　feed　with　a　good　load　of　fat　soup　under　their　belts。　Policeman's　lot　is　oft　a　happy　one。　They　split　up　into　groups　and　scattered；　saluting　towards　their　beats。　Let　out　to　graze。　Best　moment　to　attack　one　in　pudding　time。　A　punch　in　his　dinner。　A　squad　of　others；　marching　irregularly；　rounded　Trinity　railings；　making　for　the　station。　Bound　for　their　troughs。　Prepare　to　receive　cavalry。　Prepare　to　receive　soup。　
He　crossed　under　Tommy　Moore's　roguish　finger。　They　did　right　to　put　him　up　over　a　urinal：　meeting　of　the　waters。　Ought　to　be　places　for　women。　Running　into　cakeshops。　Settle　my　hat　straight。　There　is　not　in　this　wide　world　a　vallee。　Great　song　of　Julia　Morkan's。　Kept　her　voice　up　to　the　very　last。　Pupil　of　Michael　Balfe's　wasn't　she？　
He　gazed　after　the　last　broad　tunic。　Nasty　customers　to　tackle。　Jack　Power　could　a　tale　unfold：　father　a　G　man。　If　a　fellow　gave　them　trouble　being　lagged　they　let　him　have　it　hot　and　heavy　in　the　bridewell。　Can't　blame　them　after　all　with　the　job　they　have　especially　the　young　hornies。　That　horse　policeman　the　day　Joe　Chamberlain　was　given　his　degree　in　Trinity　he　got　a　run　for　his　money。　My　word　he　did！　His　horse's　hoofs　clattering　after　us　down　Abbey　street。　Luck　I　had　the　presence　of　mind　to　dive　into　Manning's　or　I　was　souped。　He　did　e　a　wallop；　by　George。　Must　have　cracked　his　skull　on　the　cobblestones。　I　oughtn't　to　have　got　myself　swept　along　with　those　medicals。　And　the　Trinity　jibs　in　their　mortar…boards。　Looking　for　trouble。　Still　I　got　to　know　that　young　Dixon　who　dressed　that　sting　for　me　in　the　Mater　and　now　he's　in　Holles　street　where　Mrs　Purefoy。　Wheels　within　wheels。　Police　whistle　in　my　ears　still。　All　skedaddled。　Why　he　fixed　on　me。　Give　me　in　charge。　Right　here　it　began。　
　Up　the　Boers！　
　Three　cheers　for　De　Wet！　
　We'll　hang　Joe　Chamberlain　on　a　sourapple　tree。　
Silly　billies：　mob　of　young　cubs　yelling　their　guts　out。　Vinegar　hill。　The　Butter　exchange　band。　Few　years'　time　half　of　them　magistrates　and　civil　servants。　War　es　on：　into　the　army　helterskelter：　same　fellows　used　to　whether　on　the　scaffold　high。　
Never　know　who　you're　talking　to。　Corny　Kelleher　he　has　Harvey　Duff　in　his　eye。　Like　that　Peter　or　Denis　or　James　Carey　that　blew　the　gaff　on　the　invincibles。　Member　of　the　corporation　too。　Egging　raw　youths　on　to　get　in　the　know。　All　the　time　drawing　secret　service　pay　from　the　castle。　Drop　him　like　a　hot　potato。　Why　those　plain　clothes　men　are　always　courting　slaveys。　Easily　twig　a　man　used　to　uniform。　Square…pushing　up　against　a　backdoor。　Maul　her　a　bit。　Then　the　next　thing　on　the　menu。　And　who　is　the　gentleman　does　be　visiting　there？　Was　the　young　master　saying　anything？　Peeping　Tom　through　the　keyhole。　Decoy　duck。　Hotblooded　young　student　fooling　round　her　fat　arms　ironing。　
　Are　those　yours；　Mary？　
　I　don't　wear　such　things。。。　Stop　or　I'll　tell　the　missus　on　you。　Out　half　the　night。　
　There　are　great　times　ing；　Mary。　Wait　till　you　see。　
　Ah；　get　along　with　your　great　times　ing。　Barmaids　too。　Tobacco　shopgirls。　
James　Stephens'　idea　was　the　best。　He　knew　them。　Circles　of　ten　so　that　a　fellow　couldn't　round　on　more　than　his　own　ring。　Sinn　Fein。　Back　out　you　get　the　knife。　Hidden　hand。　Stay　in；　the　firing　squad。　Turnkey's　daughter　got　him　out　of　Richmond；　off　from　Lusk。　Putting　up　in　the　Buckingham　Palace　hotel　under　their　very　noses。　Garibaldi。　
You　must　have　a　certain　fascination：　Parnell；　Arthur　Griffith　is　a　squareheaded　fellow　but　he　has　no　go　in　him　for　the　mob。　Want　to　gas　about　our　lovely　land。　Gammon　and　spinach。　Dublin　Bakery　pany's　tearoom。　Debating　societies。　That　republicanism　is　the　best　form　of　government。　That　the　language　question　should　take　precedence　of　the　economic　question。　Have　your　daughters　inveigling　them　to　your　house。　Stuff　them　up　with　meat　and　drink。　Michaelmas　goose。　Here's　a　good　lump　of　thyme　seasoning　under　the　apron　for　you。　Have　another　quart　of　goosegrease　before　it　gets　too　cold。　Halffed　enthusiasts。　Penny　roll　and　a　walk　with　the　band。　No　grace　for　the　carver。　The　thought　that　the　other　chap　pays　best　sauce　in　the　world。　Make　themselves　thoroughly　at　home。　Shove　us　over　those　apricots；　meaning　peaches。　The　not　far　distant　day。　Home　Rule　sun　rising　up　in　the　northwest。　
His　smile　faded　as　he　walked；　a　heavy　cloud　hiding　the　sun　slowly；　shadowing　Trinity's　surly　front。　Trams　passed　one　another；　ingoing；　outgoing；　clanging。　Useless　words。　Things　go　on　same；　day　after　day：　squads　of　police　marching　out；　back：　trams　in；　out。　Those　two　loonies　mooching　about。　Dignam　carted　off。　Mina　Purefoy　swollen　belly　on　a　bed　groaning　to　have　a　child　tugged　out　of　her。　One　born　every　second　somewhere。　Other　dying　every　second。　Since　I　fed　the　birds　five　minutes。　Three　hundred　kicked　the　bucket。　Other　three　hundred　born；　washing　the　blood　off；　all　are　washed　in　the　blood　of　the　lamb；　bawling　maaaaaa。　
Cityful　passing　away；　other　cityful　ing；　passing　away　too：　other　ing　on；　passing　on。　Houses；　lines　of　houses；　streets；　miles　of　pavements；　piledup　bricks；　stones。　Changing　hands。　This　owner；　that。　Landlord　never　dies　they　say。　Other　steps　into　his　shoes　when　he　gets　his　notice　to　quit。　They　buy　the　place　up　with　gold　and　still　they　have　all　the　gold。　Swindle　in　it　somewhere。　Piled　up　in　cities；　worn　away　age　af