尤利西斯-第56章

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So　Joe　starts　telling　the　citizen　about　the　foot　and　mouth　disease　and　the　cattle　traders　and　taking　action　in　the　matter　and　the　citizen　sending　them　all　to　the　rightabout　and　Bloom　ing　out　with　his　sheepdip　for　the　scab　and　a　hoose　drench　for　coughing　calves　and　the　guaranteed　remedy　for　timber　tongue。　Because　he　was　up　one　time　in　a　knacker's　yard。　Walking　about　with　his　book　and　pencil　here's　my　head　and　my　heels　are　ing　till　Joe　Cuffe　gave　him　the　order　of　the　boot　for　giving　lip　to　a　grazier。　Mister　Knowall。　Teach　your　grandmother　how　to　milk　ducks。　Pisser　Burke　was　telling　me　in　the　hotel　the　wife　used　to　be　in　rivers　of　tears　sometimes　with　Mrs　O'Dowd　crying　her　eyes　out　with　her　eight　inches　of　fat　all　over　her。　Couldn't　loosen　her　farting　strings　but　old　cod's　eye　was　waltzing　around　her　showing　her　how　to　do　it。　What's　your　programme　today？　Ay。　Humane　methods。　Because　the　poor　animals　suffer　and　experts　say　and　the　best　known　remedy　that　doesn't　cause　pain　to　the　animal　and　on　the　sore　spot　administer　gently。　Gob；　he'd　have　a　soft　hand　under　a　hen。　
Ga　Ga　Gara。　Klook　Klook　Klook。　Black　Liz　is　our　hen。　She　lays　eggs　for　us。　When　she　lays　her　egg　she　is　so　glad。　Gara。　Klook　Klook　Klook。　Then　es　good　uncle　Leo。　He　puts　his　hand　under　black　Liz　and　takes　her　fresh　egg。　Ga　ga　ga　ga　Gara。　Klook　Klook　Klook。　
　Anyhow；　says　Joe。　Field　and　Nannetti　are　going　over　tonight　to　London　to　ask　about　it　on　the　floor　of　the　House　of　mons。　
　Are　you　sure；　says　Bloom；　the　councillor　is　going？　I　wanted　to　see　him；　as　it　happens。　
　Well；　he's　going　off　by　the　mailboat；　says　Joe；　tonight。　
　That's　too　bad；　says　Bloom。　I　wanted　particularly。　Perhaps　only　Mr　Field　is　going。　I　couldn't　phone。　No。　You're　sure？　
　Nannan's　going　too；　says　Joe。　The　league　told　him　to　ask　a　question　tomorrow　about　the　missioner　of　police　forbidding　Irish　games　in　the　park。　What　do　you　think　of　that；　citizen？　The　Sluagh　na　h…Eireann。　
Mr　Cowe　Conacre　（Multifarnham。　Nat）：　Arising　out　of　the　question　of　my　honourable　friend；　the　member　for　Shillelagh；　may　I　ask　the　right　honourable　gentleman　whether　the　Government　has　issued　orders　that　these　animals　shall　be　slaughtered　though　no　medical　evidence　is　forthing　as　to　their　pathological　condition？　
Mr　Allfours　（Tamoshant。　Con）：　Honourable　members　are　already　in　possession　of　the　evidence　produced　before　a　mittee　of　the　whole　house。　I　feel　I　cannot　usefully　add　anything　to　that。　The　answer　to　the　honourable　member's　question　is　in　the　affirmative。　
Mr　Orelli　（Montenotte。　Nat）：　Have　similar　orders　been　issued　for　the　slaughter　of　human　animals　who　dare　to　play　Irish　games　in　the　Phnix　park？　
Mr　Allfours：　The　answer　is　in　the　negative。　
Mr　Cowe　Conacre：　Has　the　right　honourable　gentleman's　famous　Mitchelstown　telegram　inspired　the　policy　of　gentlemen　on　the　treasury　bench？　（O！　O！）　
Mr　Allfours：　I　must　have　notice　of　that　question。　
Mr　Staylewit　（Bunbe。　Ind。）：　Don't　hesitate　to　shoot。　
（Ironical　opposition　cheers。）　
The　speaker：　Order！　Order！　
（The　house　rises。　Cheers。）　
　There's　the　man；　says　Joe；　that　made　the　Gaelic　sports　revival。　There　he　is　sitting　there。　The　man　that　got　away　James　Stephens。　The　champion　of　all　Ireland　at　putting　the　sixteen　pound　shot。　What　was　your　best　throw；　citizen？　
　Na　bacleis；　says　the　citizen；　letting　on　to　be　modest。　There　was　a　time　I　was　as　good　as　the　next　fellow　anyhow。　
　Put　it　there；　citizen；　says　Joe。　You　were　and　a　bloody　sight　better。　
　Is　that　really　a　fact？　says　Alf。　
　Yes；　says　Bloom。　That's　well　known。　Do　you　not　know　that？　
So　off　they　started　about　Irish　sport　and　shoneen　games　the　like　of　the　lawn　tennis　and　about　hurley　and　putting　the　stone　and　racy　of　the　soil　and　building　up　a　nation　once　again　and　all　of　that。　And　of　course　Bloom　had　to　have　his　say　too　about　if　a　fellow　had　a　rower's　heart　violent　exercise　was　bad。　I　declare　to　my　antimacassar　if　you　took　up　a　straw　from　the　bloody　floor　and　if　you　said　to　Bloom：　Look　at；　Bloom。　Do　you　see　that　straw？　That's　a　straw。　Declare　to　my　aunt　he'd　talk　about　it　for　an　hour　so　he　would　and　talk　steady。　
A　most　interesting　discussion　took　place　in　the　ancient　hall　of　Brian　O'Ciarnain's　in　Sraid　na　Bretaine　Bheag；　under　the　auspices　of　Sluagh　na　h…Eireann；　on　the　revival　of　ancient　Gaelic　sports　and　the　importance　of　physical　culture；　as　understood　in　ancient　Greece　and　ancient　Rome　and　ancient　Ireland；　for　the　development　of　the　race。　The　venerable　president　of　this　noble　order　was　in　the　chair　and　the　attendance　was　of　large　dimensions。　After　an　instructive　discourse　by　the　chairman；　a　magnificent　oration　eloquently　and　forcibly　expressed；　a　most　interesting　and　instructive　discussion　of　the　usual　high　standard　of　excellence　ensued　as　to　the　desirability　of　the　revivability　of　the　ancient　games　and　sports　of　our　ancient　panceltic　forefathers。　The　wellknown　and　highly　respected　worker　in　the　cause　o！　our　old　tongue；　Mr　Joseph　M'Carthy　Hynes；　made　an　eloquent　appeal　for　the　resuscitation　of　the　ancient　Gaelic　sports　and　pastimes；　practised　morning　and　evening　by　Finn　MacCool；　as　calculated　to　revive　the　best　traditions　of　manly　strength　and　power　handed　down　to　us　from　ancient　ages。　L。　Bloom；　who　met　with　a　mixed　reception　of　applause　and　hisses；　having　espoused　the　negative　the　vocalist　chairman　brought　the　discussion　to　a　close；　in　response　to　repeated　requests　and　hearty　plaudits　from　all　parts　of　a　bumper　house；　by　a　remarkably　noteworthy　rendering　of　the　immortal　Thomas　Osborne　Davis'　evergreen　verses　（happily　too　familiar　to　need　recalling　here）　A　nation　once　again　in　the　execution　of　which　the　veteran　patriot　champion　may　be　said　without　fear　of　contradiction　to　have　fairly　excelled　himself。　The　Irish　Caruso…Garibaldi　was　in　superlative　form　and　his　stentorian　notes　were　heard　to　the　greatest　advantage　in　the　timehonoured　anthem　sung　as　only　our　citizen　can　sing　it。　His　superb　highclass　vocalism；　which　by　its　superquality　greatly　enchanced　his　already　international　reputation；　was　vociferously　applauded　by　the　large　audience　amongst　which　were　to　be　noticed　many　prominent　members　of　the　clergy　as　well　as　representatives　of　the　press　and　the　bar　and　the　other　learned　professions。　The　proceedings　then　terminated。　
Amongst　the　clergy　present　were　the　very　rev。　William　Delany；　S。　J。；　L。　L。　D。；　the　rt　rev。　Gerald　Molloy；　D。　D。；　the　rev。　P。　J。　Kavanagh；　C。　S。　Sp。；　the　rev。　T。　Waters；　C。　C。；　the　rev。　John　M。　Ivers；　P。　P。；　the　rev。　P。　J。　Cleary；　O。　S。　F。；　the　rev。　L。　J。　Hickey；　O。　P。；　the　very　rev。　Fr。　Nicholas；　O。　S。　F。　C。；　the　very　rev。　B。　Gorman。　O。　D。　C。；　the　rev。　T。　Maher；　S。　J。；　the　very　rev。　James　Murphy；　S。　J。；　the　rev。　John　Lavery；　V。　F。；　the　very　rev。　William　Doherty；　D。　D。；　the　rev。　Peter　Fagan；　O。　M。；　the　rev。　T。　Brangan；　O。　S。　A。；　the　rev。　J。　Flavin；　C。　C。；　the　rev。　M。　A。　Hackett；　C。　C。；　the　rev。　W。　Hurley；　C。　C。；　the　rt　rev。　Mgr　M'Manus；　V。　G。；　the　rev。　B。　R。　Slattery；　O。　M。　I。；　the　very　rev。　M。　D。　Scally；　P。　P。；　the　rev。　F。　T。　Purcell；　O。　P。；　the　very　rev。　Timothy　canon　Gorman；　P。　P。；　the　rev。　J。　Flanagan；　C。　C。　The　laity　included　P。　Fay；　T。　Quirke；　etc。；　etc。　
　Talking　about　violent　exercise；　says　Alf；　were　you　at　that　Keogh…Bennett　match？　
　No；　says　Joe。　
　I　heard　So　and　So　made　a　cool　hundred　quid　over　it；　says　Alf。　
　Who？　Blazes？　says　Joe。　
And　says　Bloom：　
　What　I　meant　about　tennis；　for　example；　is　the　agility　and　training　of　the　eye。　
　Ay；　Blazes；　says　Alf。　He　let　out　that　Myler　was　on　the　beer　to　run　the　odds　and　he　swatting　all　the　time。　
　We　know　him；　says　the　citizen。　The　traitor's　son。　We　know　what　put　English　gold　in　his　pocket。　
　True　for　you；　says　Joe。　
And　Bloom　cuts　in　again　about　lawn　tennis　and　the　circulation　of　the　blood；　asking　Alf：　
　Now　don't　you　think；　Bergan？　
　Myler　dusted　the　floor　with　him；　says　Alf。　Heenan　and　Sayers　was　only　a　bloody　fool　to　it。　Handed　him　the　father　and　mother　of　a　beating。　See　the　little　kipper　not　up　to　his　navel　and　the　big　fellow　swiping。　God；　he　gave　him　one　last　puck　in　the　wind。　Queensberry　rules　and　all；　made　him　puke　what　he　never　ate。　
It　was　a　historic　and　a　hefty　battle　when　Myler　and　Percy　were　scheduled　to　don　the　gloves　for　the　purse　of　fifty　sovereigns。　Handicapped　as　he　was　by　lack　of　poundage；　Dublin's　pet　lamb　made　up　for　it　by　superlative　skill　in　ringcraft。　The　final　bout　of　fireworks　was　a　gruelling　for　both　champions。　The　welterweight　sergeantmajor　had　tapped　some　lively　claret　in　the　previous　mixup　during　which　Keogh　had　been　receivergeneral　of　rights　and　lefts；　the　artilleryman　putting　in　some　neat　work　on　the　pet's　nose；　and　Myler　came　on　looking　groggy。　The　soldier　got　to　business　leading　off　with　a　powerful　left　jab　to　which　the　Irish　gladiator　retaliated　by　shooting　out　a　stiff　one　flush　to　the　point　of　Bennett's　jaw。　The　redcoat　ducked　but　the　Dubliner　lifted　him　with　a　left　hook；　the　body　punch　being　a　fine　one。　The　men　came　to　handigrips。　Myler　quickly　became　busy　and　got　his　man　under；　the　bout　ending　with　the　bulkier　man　on　the　ropes；　Myler　punishing　him。　The　Englishman；　whose　right　eye　was　nearly　closed；　took　his　corner　where　he　was　liberally　drenched　with　water　and；　when　the　bell　went；　came　on　gamey　and　brimful　of　pluck；　confident　of　knocking　out　the　fistic　Eblanite　in　jigtime。　It　was　a　fight　to　a　finish　and　the　best　man　for　it。　The　two　fought　like　tigers　and　excitement　ran　fever　high。　The　referee　twice　cautioned　Pucking　Percy　for　holding　but　the　pet　was　tricky　and　his　footwork　a　treat　to　watch。　After　a　brisk　exchange　of　courtesies　during　which　a　smart　upper　cut　of　the　military　man　brought　blood　freely　from　his　opponent's　mouth　the　lamb　suddenly　waded　in　all　over　his　man　and　landed　a　terrific　left　to　Battling　Bennett's　stomach；　flooring　him　flat。　It　was　a　knockout　clean　and　clever。　Amid　tense　expectation　the　Portobello　bruiser　was　being　counted　out　when　Bennett's　second　Ole　Pfotts　Wettstein　threw　in　the　towel　and　the　Santry　boy　was　declared　victor　to　the　frenzied　cheers　of　the　public　who　broke　through　the　ringropes　and　fairly　mobbed　him　with　delight。　
　He　knows　which　side　his　bread　is　buttered；　says　Alf。　I　hear　he's　running　a　concert　tour　now　up　in　the　north。　
　He　is；　says　Joe。　Isn't　he？　
　Who？　says　Bloom。　Ah；　yes。　That's　quite　true。　Yes；　a　kind　of　summer　tour；　you　see。　Just　a　holiday。　
　Mrs　B。　is　the　bright　particular　star；　isn't　she？　says　Joe。　
　My　wife？　says　Bloom。　She's　singing；　yes。　I　think　it　will　be　a　success　too。　He's　an　excellent　man　to　organise。　Excellent。　
Hoho　begob；　says　I　to　myself；　says　I。　That　explains　the　milk　in　the　cocoanut　and　absence　of　hair　on　the　animal's　chest。　Blazes　doing　the　tootle　on　the　flute。　Concert　tour。　Dirty　Dan　the　dodger's　son　off　Island　bridge　that　sold　the　same　horses　twice　over　to　the　government　to　fight　the　Boers。　Old　Whatwhat。　I　called　about　the　poor　and　water　rate；　Mr　Boylan。　You　what？　The　water　rate；　Mr　Boylan。　You　whatwhat？　That's　the　bucko　that'll　organise　her；　take　my　tip。　'Twixt　me　and　you　Caddereesh。　
Pride　of　Calpe's　rocky　mount；　the　ravenhaired　daughter　of　Tweedy。　There　grew　she　to　peerless　beauty　where　loquat　and　almond　scent　the　air。　The　gardens　of　Alameda　knew　her　step：　the　garths　of　olives　knew　and　bowed。　The　chaste　spouse　of　Leopold　is　she：　Marion　of　the　bountiful　bosoms。　
And　lo；　there　entered　one　of　the　clan　of　the　O'Molloys；　a　ely　hero　of　white　fac