Dubliners by James Joyce
THE

Dublin The Sisters
An Encounter
Araby
Eveline
After the Race
Two Gallants
The Boarding House
A Little Cloud
Counterparts
Clay
A Painful Case
Ivy Day in the Committee Room
A Mother
Grace
The Dead

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Dubliners by James Joyce.
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[The Sisters] [1] THE SISTERS
[The Sisters] [3] THERE was no hope for him this time: it was the third stroke.
[The Sisters] [4] Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation time) and
[The Sisters] [5] studied the lighted square of window: and night after night I had
[The Sisters] [6] found it lighted in the same way, faintly and evenly. If he was
[The Sisters] [7] dead, I thought, I would see the reflection of candles on the
[The Sisters] [8] darkened blind for I knew that two candles must be set at the head
[The Sisters] [11] true. Every night as I gazed up at the window I said softly to
[The Sisters] [12] myself the word paralysis. It had always sounded strangely in my
[The Sisters] [13] ears, like the word gnomon in the Euclid and the word simony in
[The Sisters] [14] the Catechism. But now it sounded to me like the name of some
[The Sisters] [18] Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came
[The Sisters] [29] tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery.
[The Sisters] [45] "Mr. Cotter here has just told us. He was passing by the house."
[The Sisters] [47] I knew that I was under observation so I continued eating as if the
[The Sisters] [50] "The youngster and he were great friends. The old chap taught him
[The Sisters] [58] rudely into the grate.
[The Sisters] [78] My aunt brought the dish from the safe and put it on the table.
[The Sisters] [92] from his unfinished sentences. In the dark of my room I imagined
[The Sisters] [93] that I saw again the heavy grey face of the paralytic. I drew the
[The Sisters] [94] blankets over my head and tried to think of Christmas. But the grey
[The Sisters] [99] wondered why it smiled continually and why the lips were so
[The Sisters] [101] paralysis and I felt that I too was smiling feebly as if to absolve the
[The Sisters] [104] The next morning after breakfast I went down to look at the little
[The Sisters] [106] registered under the vague name of Drapery . The drapery
[The Sisters] [108] ordinary days a notice used to hang in the window, saying:
[The Sisters] [109] Umbrellas Re-covered . No notice was visible now for the shutters
[The Sisters] [110] were up. A crape bouquet was tied to the doorknocker with ribbon.
[The Sisters] [111] Two poor women and a telegram boy were reading the card pinned
[The Sisters] [112] on the crape. I also approached and read:
[The Sisters] [115] The Rev. James Flynn (formerly of S. Catherine's Church,
[The Sisters] [119] The reading of the card persuaded me that he was dead and I was
[The Sisters] [121] have gone into the little dark room behind the shop to find him
[The Sisters] [122] sitting in his arm-chair by the fire, nearly smothered in his
[The Sisters] [125] stupefied doze. It was always I who emptied the packet into his
[The Sisters] [127] do this without spilling half the snuff about the floor. Even as he
[The Sisters] [129] dribbled through his fingers over the front of his coat. It may have
[The Sisters] [131] priestly garments their green faded look for the red handkerchief,
[The Sisters] [132] blackened, as it always was, with the snuff-stains of a week, with
[The Sisters] [133] which he tried to brush away the fallen grains, was quite
[The Sisters] [136] I wished to go in and look at him but I had not the courage to
[The Sisters] [137] knock. I walked away slowly along the sunny side of the street,
[The Sisters] [138] reading all the theatrical advertisements in the shop-windows as I
[The Sisters] [139] went. I found it strange that neither I nor the day seemed in a
[The Sisters] [142] death. I wondered at this for, as my uncle had said the night
[The Sisters] [143] before, he had taught me a great deal. He had studied in the Irish
[The Sisters] [145] properly. He had told me stories about the catacombs and about
[The Sisters] [146] Napoleon Bonaparte, and he had explained to me the meaning of
[The Sisters] [147] the different ceremonies of the Mass and of the different vestments
[The Sisters] [148] worn by the priest. Sometimes he had amused himself by putting
[The Sisters] [152] mysterious were certain institutions of the Church which I had
[The Sisters] [153] always regarded as the simplest acts. The duties of the priest
[The Sisters] [154] towards the Eucharist and towards the secrecy of the confessional
[The Sisters] [156] found in himself the courage to undertake them; and I was not
[The Sisters] [157] surprised when he told me that the fathers of the Church had
[The Sisters] [158] written books as thick as the Post Office Directory and as closely
[The Sisters] [159] printed as the law notices in the newspaper, elucidating all these
[The Sisters] [163] put me through the responses of the Mass which he had made me
[The Sisters] [168] which had made me feel uneasy in the beginning of our
[The Sisters] [171] As I walked along in the sun I remembered old Cotter's words and
[The Sisters] [172] tried to remember what had happened afterwards in the dream. I
[The Sisters] [175] some land where the customs were strange--in Persia, I thought....
[The Sisters] [176] But I could not remember the end of the dream.
[The Sisters] [178] In the evening my aunt took me with her to visit the house of
[The Sisters] [179] mourning. It was after sunset; but the window-panes of the houses
[The Sisters] [180] that looked to the west reflected the tawny gold of a great bank of
[The Sisters] [181] clouds. Nannie received us in the hall; and, as it would have been
[The Sisters] [183] all. The old woman pointed upwards interrogatively and, on my
[The Sisters] [184] aunt's nodding, proceeded to toil up the narrow staircase before us,
[The Sisters] [185] her bowed head being scarcely above the level of the banister-rail.
[The Sisters] [186] At the first landing she stopped and beckoned us forward
[The Sisters] [187] encouragingly towards the open door of the dead-room. My aunt
[The Sisters] [188] went in and the old woman, seeing that I hesitated to enter, began
[The Sisters] [191] I went in on tiptoe. The room through the lace end of the blind was
[The Sisters] [192] suffused with dusky golden light amid which the candles looked
[The Sisters] [193] like pale thin flames. He had been coffined. Nannie gave the lead
[The Sisters] [194] and we three knelt down at the foot of the bed. I pretended to pray
[The Sisters] [195] but I could not gather my thoughts because the old woman's
[The Sisters] [197] hooked at the back and how the heels of her cloth boots were
[The Sisters] [198] trodden down all to one side. The fancy came to me that the old
[The Sisters] [201] But no. When we rose and went up to the head of the bed I saw
[The Sisters] [203] as for the altar, his large hands loosely retaining a chalice. His face
[The Sisters] [206] in the room--the flowers.
[The Sisters] [208] We crossed ourselves and came away. In the little room downstairs
[The Sisters] [210] towards my usual chair in the corner while Nannie went to the
[The Sisters] [212] wine-glasses. She set these on the table and invited us to take a
[The Sisters] [213] little glass of wine. Then, at her sister's bidding, she filled out the
[The Sisters] [214] sherry into the glasses and passed them to us. She pressed me to
[The Sisters] [217] somewhat disappointed at my refusal and went over quietly to the
[The Sisters] [219] gazed at the empty fireplace.
[The Sisters] [226] the stem of her wine-glass before sipping a little.
[The Sisters] [231] the breath went out of him. He had a beautiful death, God be
[The Sisters] [245] "That's what the woman we had in to wash him said. She said he
[The Sisters] [263] Nannie had leaned her head against the sofa-pillow and seemed
[The Sisters] [267] All the work we had, she and me, getting in the woman to wash
[The Sisters] [268] him and then laying him out and then the coffin and then arranging
[The Sisters] [269] about the Mass in the chapel. Only for Father O'Rourke I don't
[The Sisters] [271] and them two candlesticks out of the chapel and wrote out the
[The Sisters] [272] notice for the Freeman's General and took charge of all the papers
[The Sisters] [273] for the cemetery and poor James's insurance."
[The Sisters] [279] "Ah, there's no friends like the old friends," she said, "when all is
[The Sisters] [287] wouldn't hear him in the house any more than now. Still, I know
[The Sisters] [296] She stopped, as if she were communing with the past and then said
[The Sisters] [301] with his breviary fallen to the floor, lying back in the chair and his
[The Sisters] [306] "But still and all he kept on saying that before the summer was
[The Sisters] [307] over he'd go out for a drive one fine day just to see the old house
[The Sisters] [311] them with the rheumatic wheels, for the day cheap--he said, at
[The Sisters] [312] Johnny Rush's over the way there and drive out the three of us
[The Sisters] [316] "The Lord have mercy on his soul!" said my aunt.
[The Sisters] [319] she put it back again in her pocket and gazed into the empty grate
[The Sisters] [322] "He was too scrupulous always," she said. "The duties of the
[The Sisters] [329] A silence took possession of the little room and, under cover of it,
[The Sisters] [330] I approached the table and tasted my sherry and then returned
[The Sisters] [331] quietly to my chair in the comer. Eliza seemed to have fallen into a
[The Sisters] [332] deep revery. We waited respectfully for her to break the silence:
[The Sisters] [335] "It was that chalice he broke.... That was the beginning of it. Of
[The Sisters] [337] But still.... They say it was the boy's fault. But poor James was so
[The Sisters] [348] couldn't see a sight of him anywhere. So then the clerk suggested
[The Sisters] [349] to try the chapel. So then they got the keys and opened the chapel
[The Sisters] [350] and the clerk and Father O'Rourke and another priest that was
[The Sisters] [352] think but there he was, sitting up by himself in the dark in his
[The Sisters] [356] no sound in the house: and I knew that the old priest was lying still
[An Encounter] [368] IT WAS Joe Dillon who introduced the Wild West to us. He had a
[An Encounter] [369] little library made up of old numbers of The Union Jack , Pluck
[An Encounter] [370] and The Halfpenny Marvel . Every evening after school we met in
[An Encounter] [372] brother Leo, the idler, held the loft of the stable while we tried to
[An Encounter] [373] carry it by storm; or we fought a pitched battle on the grass. But,
[An Encounter] [377] the peaceful odour of Mrs. Dillon was prevalent in the hall of the
[An Encounter] [380] capered round the garden, an old tea-cosy on his head, beating a
[An Encounter] [386] vocation for the priesthood. Nevertheless it was true.
[An Encounter] [391] almost in fear: and of the number of these latter, the reluctant
[An Encounter] [393] I was one. The adventures related in the literature of the Wild
[An Encounter] [399] at school. One day when Father Butler was hearing the four pages
[An Encounter] [401] of The Halfpenny Marvel .
[An Encounter] [404] the day' ... Go on! What day? 'Hardly had the day dawned' ... Have
[An Encounter] [407] Everyone's heart palpitated as Leo Dillon handed up the paper and
[An Encounter] [408] everyone assumed an innocent face. Father Butler turned over the
[An Encounter] [411] "What is this rubbish?" he said. "The Apache Chief! Is this what
[An Encounter] [413] any more of this wretched stuff in this college. The man who wrote
[An Encounter] [419] This rebuke during the sober hours of school paled much of the
[An Encounter] [420] glory of the Wild West for me and the confused puffy face of Leo
[An Encounter] [421] Dillon awakened one of my consciences. But when the restraining
[An Encounter] [422] influence of the school was at a distance I began to hunger again
[An Encounter] [423] for wild sensations, for the escape which those chronicles of
[An Encounter] [424] disorder alone seemed to offer me. The mimic warfare of the
[An Encounter] [425] evening became at last as wearisome to me as the routine of school
[An Encounter] [426] in the morning because I wanted real adventures to happen to
[An Encounter] [430] The summer holidays were near at hand when I made up my mind
[An Encounter] [431] to break out of the weariness of schoollife for one day at least.
[An Encounter] [434] the morning on the Canal Bridge. Mahony's big sister was to write
[An Encounter] [436] was sick. We arranged to go along the Wharf Road until we came
[An Encounter] [437] to the ships, then to cross in the ferryboat and walk out to see the
[An Encounter] [439] or someone out of the college; but Mahony asked, very sensibly,
[An Encounter] [440] what would Father Butler be doing out at the Pigeon House. We
[An Encounter] [441] were reassured: and I brought the first stage of the plot to an end
[An Encounter] [442] by collecting sixpence from the other two, at the same time
[An Encounter] [443] showing them my own sixpence. When we were making the last
[An Encounter] [444] arrangements on the eve we were all vaguely excited. We shook
[An Encounter] [449] That night I slept badly. In the morning I was firstcomer to the
[An Encounter] [450] bridge as I lived nearest. I hid my books in the long grass near the
[An Encounter] [451] ashpit at the end of the garden where nobody ever came and
[An Encounter] [452] hurried along the canal bank. It was a mild sunny morning in the
[An Encounter] [453] first week of June. I sat up on the coping of the bridge admiring
[An Encounter] [455] and watching the docile horses pulling a tramload of business
[An Encounter] [456] people up the hill. All the branches of the tall trees which lined the
[An Encounter] [457] mall were gay with little light green leaves and the sunlight slanted
[An Encounter] [458] through them on to the water. The granite stone of the bridge was
[An Encounter] [463] Mahony's grey suit approaching. He came up the hill, smiling, and
[An Encounter] [464] clambered up beside me on the bridge. While we were waiting he
[An Encounter] [465] brought out the catapult which bulged from his inner pocket and
[An Encounter] [468] have some gas with the birds. Mahony used slang freely, and spoke
[An Encounter] [477] "That's forfeit," said Mahony. "And so much the better for us--a
[An Encounter] [480] We walked along the North Strand Road till we came to the Vitriol
[An Encounter] [481] Works and then turned to the right along the Wharf Road. Mahony
[An Encounter] [482] began to play the Indian as soon as we were out of public sight. He
[An Encounter] [485] at us, he proposed that we should charge them. I objected that the
[An Encounter] [486] boys were too small and so we walked on, the ragged troop
[An Encounter] [489] the silver badge of a cricket club in his cap. When we came to the
[An Encounter] [495] We came then near the river. We spent a long time walking about
[An Encounter] [496] the noisy streets flanked by high stone walls, watching the working
[An Encounter] [498] immobility by the drivers of groaning carts. It was noon when we
[An Encounter] [499] reached the quays and as all the labourers seemed to be eating
[An Encounter] [501] them on some metal piping beside the river. We pleased ourselves
[An Encounter] [502] with the spectacle of Dublin's commerce--the barges signalled
[An Encounter] [503] from far away by their curls of woolly smoke, the brown fishing
[An Encounter] [504] fleet beyond Ringsend, the big white sailingvessel which was
[An Encounter] [505] being discharged on the opposite quay. Mahony said it would be
[An Encounter] [507] looking at the high masts, saw, or imagined, the geography which
[An Encounter] [512] We crossed the Liffey in the ferryboat, paying our toll to be
[An Encounter] [513] transported in the company of two labourers and a little Jew with a
[An Encounter] [514] bag. We were serious to the point of solemnity, but once during the
[An Encounter] [516] watched the discharging of the graceful threemaster which we had
[An Encounter] [517] observed from the other quay. Some bystander said that she was a
[An Encounter] [518] Norwegian vessel. I went to the stern and tried to decipher the
[An Encounter] [519] legend upon it but, failing to do so, I came back and examined the
[An Encounter] [521] confused notion.... The sailors' eyes were blue and grey and even
[An Encounter] [522] black. The only sailor whose eyes could have been called green
[An Encounter] [523] was a tall man who amused the crowd on the quay by calling out
[An Encounter] [524] cheerfully every time the planks fell:
[An Encounter] [529] Ringsend. The day had grown sultry, and in the windows of the
[An Encounter] [532] through the squalid streets where the families of the fishermen
[An Encounter] [535] Mahony chased a cat down a lane, but the cat escaped into a wide
[An Encounter] [536] field. We both felt rather tired and when we reached the field we
[An Encounter] [537] made at once for a sloping bank over the ridge of which we could
[An Encounter] [538] see the Dodder.
[An Encounter] [541] visiting the Pigeon House. We had to be home before four o'clock
[An Encounter] [544] before he regained any cheerfulness. The sun went in behind some
[An Encounter] [545] clouds and left us to our jaded thoughts and the crumbs of our
[An Encounter] [548] There was nobody but ourselves in the field. When we had lain on
[An Encounter] [549] the bank for some time without speaking I saw a man approaching
[An Encounter] [550] from the far end of the field. I watched him lazily as I chewed one
[An Encounter] [552] by the bank slowly. He walked with one hand upon his hip and in
[An Encounter] [553] the other hand he held a stick with which he tapped the turf lightly.
[An Encounter] [560] steps. He walked towards us very slowly, always tapping the
[An Encounter] [562] something in the grass.
[An Encounter] [565] answered him and he sat down beside us on the slope slowly and
[An Encounter] [566] with great care. He began to talk of the weather, saying that it
[An Encounter] [567] would be a very hot summer and adding that the seasons had
[An Encounter] [569] the happiest time of one's life was undoubtedly one's schoolboy
[An Encounter] [573] we had read the poetry of Thomas Moore or the works of Sir
[An Encounter] [575] book he mentioned so that in the end he said:
[An Encounter] [585] which agitated and pained me because I was afraid the man would
[An Encounter] [586] think I was as stupid as Mahony. The man, however, only smiled. I
[An Encounter] [588] Then he asked us which of us had the most sweethearts. Mahony
[An Encounter] [589] mentioned lightly that he had three totties. The man asked me how
[An Encounter] [593] "Tell us," said Mahony pertly to the man, "how many have you
[An Encounter] [596] The man smiled as before and said that when he was our age he
[An Encounter] [603] sweethearts was reasonable. But I disliked the words in his mouth
[An Encounter] [611] gave me the impression that he was repeating something which he
[An Encounter] [613] speech, his mind was slowly circling round and round in the same
[An Encounter] [619] voice. I continued to gaze towards the foot of the slope, listening
[An Encounter] [624] and, without changing the direction of my gaze, I saw him walking
[An Encounter] [625] slowly away from us towards the near end of the field. We
[An Encounter] [640] whether I would go away or not when the man came back and sat
[An Encounter] [642] catching sight of the cat which had escaped him, sprang up and
[An Encounter] [643] pursued her across the field. The man and I watched the chase. The
[An Encounter] [644] cat escaped once more and Mahony began to throw stones at the
[An Encounter] [646] about the far end of the field, aimlessly.
[An Encounter] [648] After an interval the man spoke to me. He said that my friend was
[An Encounter] [652] to speak on the subject of chastising boys. His mind, as if
[An Encounter] [657] whipping. A slap on the hand or a box on the ear was no good:
[An Encounter] [660] so I met the gaze of a pair of bottle-green eyes peering at me from
[An Encounter] [663] The man continued his monologue. He seemed to have forgotten
[An Encounter] [673] monotonously through the mystery, grew almost affectionate and
[An Encounter] [679] obliged to go, I bade him good-day. I went up the slope calmly but
[An Encounter] [681] the ankles. When I reached the top of the slope I turned round and,
[An Encounter] [682] without looking at him, called loudly across the field:
[An Encounter] [687] of my paltry stratagem. I had to call the name again before
[An Encounter] [689] came running across the field to me! He ran as if to bring me aid.
[Araby] [696] except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys
[Araby] [697] free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end,
[Araby] [698] detached from its neighbours in a square ground The other houses
[Araby] [699] of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one
[Araby] [702] The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back
[Araby] [704] in all the rooms, and the waste room behind the kitchen was
[Araby] [706] paper-covered books, the pages of which were curled and damp:
[Araby] [707] The Abbot, by Walter Scott, The Devout Communnicant and The
[Araby] [708] Memoirs of Vidocq. I liked the last best because its leaves were
[Araby] [709] yellow. The wild garden behind the house contained a central
[Araby] [711] the late tenant's rusty bicycle-pump. He had been a very charitable
[Araby] [712] priest; in his will he had left all his money to institutions and the
[Araby] [715] When the short days of winter came dusk fell before we had well
[Araby] [716] eaten our dinners. When we met in the street the houses had grown
[Araby] [717] sombre. The space of sky above us was the colour of
[Araby] [718] ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the street lifted
[Araby] [719] their feeble lanterns. The cold air stung us and we played till our
[Araby] [720] bodies glowed. Our shouts echoed in the silent street. The career
[Araby] [721] of our play brought us through the dark muddy lanes behind the
[Araby] [722] houses where we ran the gauntlet of the rough tribes from the
[Araby] [723] cottages, to the back doors of the dark dripping gardens where
[Araby] [724] odours arose from the ashpits, to the dark odorous stables where a
[Araby] [725] coachman smoothed and combed the horse or shook music from
[Araby] [726] the buckled harness. When we returned to the street light from the
[Araby] [727] kitchen windows had filled the areas. If my uncle was seen turning
[Araby] [728] the corner we hid in the shadow until we had seen him safely
[Araby] [729] housed. Or if Mangan's sister came out on the doorstep to call her
[Araby] [731] down the street. We waited to see whether she would remain or go
[Araby] [734] defined by the light from the half-opened door. Her brother always
[Araby] [735] teased her before he obeyed and I stood by the railings looking at
[Araby] [736] her. Her dress swung as she moved her body and the soft rope of
[Araby] [739] Every morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her
[Araby] [740] door. The blind was pulled down to within an inch of the sash so
[Araby] [741] that I could not be seen. When she came out on the doorstep my
[Araby] [742] heart leaped. I ran to the hall, seized my books and followed her. I
[Araby] [744] the point at which our ways diverged, I quickened my pace and
[Araby] [749] Her image accompanied me even in places the most hostile to
[Araby] [751] had to go to carry some of the parcels. We walked through the
[Araby] [753] amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies of shop-boys who
[Araby] [754] stood on guard by the barrels of pigs' cheeks, the nasal chanting of
[Araby] [756] or a ballad about the troubles in our native land. These noises
[Araby] [762] pour itself out into my bosom. I thought little of the future. I did
[Araby] [766] running upon the wires.
[Araby] [768] One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest
[Araby] [769] had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the
[Araby] [770] house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge
[Araby] [771] upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the
[Araby] [775] from them, I pressed the palms of my hands together until they
[Araby] [778] At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me
[Araby] [788] fighting for their caps and I was alone at the railings. She held one
[Araby] [789] of the spikes, bowing her head towards me. The light from the
[Araby] [790] lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her neck, lit up
[Araby] [791] her hair that rested there and, falling, lit up the hand upon the
[Araby] [792] railing. It fell over one side of her dress and caught the white
[Araby] [800] thoughts after that evening! I wished to annihilate the tedious
[Araby] [801] intervening days. I chafed against the work of school. At night in
[Araby] [802] my bedroom and by day in the classroom her image came between
[Araby] [803] me and the page I strove to read. The syllables of the word Araby
[Araby] [804] were called to me through the silence in which my soul luxuriated
[Araby] [806] to the bazaar on Saturday night. My aunt was surprised and hoped
[Araby] [810] wandering thoughts together. I had hardly any patience with the
[Araby] [815] the bazaar in the evening. He was fussing at the hallstand, looking
[Araby] [816] for the hat-brush, and answered me curtly:
[Araby] [820] As he was in the hall I could not go into the front parlour and lie at
[Araby] [821] the window. I left the house in bad humour and walked slowly
[Araby] [822] towards the school. The air was pitilessly raw and already my heart
[Araby] [826] Still it was early. I sat staring at the clock for some time and. when
[Araby] [827] its ticking began to irritate me, I left the room. I mounted the
[Araby] [828] staircase and gained the upper part of the house. The high cold
[Araby] [830] singing. From the front window I saw my companions playing
[Araby] [831] below in the street. Their cries reached me weakened and
[Araby] [832] indistinct and, leaning my forehead against the cool glass, I looked
[Araby] [833] over at the dark house where she lived. I may have stood there for
[Araby] [834] an hour, seeing nothing but the brown-clad figure cast by my
[Araby] [835] imagination, touched discreetly by the lamplight at the curved
[Araby] [836] neck, at the hand upon the railings and at the border below the
[Araby] [839] When I came downstairs again I found Mrs. Mercer sitting at the
[Araby] [841] collected used stamps for some pious purpose. I had to endure the
[Araby] [842] gossip of the tea-table. The meal was prolonged beyond an hour
[Araby] [845] o'clock and she did not like to be out late as the night air was bad
[Araby] [846] for her. When she had gone I began to walk up and down the
[Araby] [851] At nine o'clock I heard my uncle's latchkey in the halldoor. I heard
[Araby] [852] him talking to himself and heard the hallstand rocking when it had
[Araby] [853] received the weight of his overcoat. I could interpret these signs.
[Araby] [855] the money to go to the bazaar. He had forgotten.
[Araby] [857] "The people are in bed and after their first sleep now," he said.
[Araby] [861] "Can't you give him the money and let him go? You've kept him
[Araby] [865] believed in the old saying: "All work and no play makes Jack a
[Araby] [867] him a second time he asked me did I know The Arab's Farewell to
[Araby] [868] his Steed. When I left the kitchen he was about to recite the
[Araby] [869] opening lines of the piece to my aunt.
[Araby] [872] Street towards the station. The sight of the streets thronged with
[Araby] [873] buyers and glaring with gas recalled to me the purpose of my
[Araby] [875] After an intolerable delay the train moved out of the station
[Araby] [876] slowly. It crept onward among ruinous house and over the
[Araby] [878] pressed to the carriage doors; but the porters moved them back,
[Araby] [879] saying that it was a special train for the bazaar. I remained alone in
[Araby] [880] the bare carriage. In a few minutes the train drew up beside an
[Araby] [881] improvised wooden platform. I passed out on to the road and saw
[Araby] [882] by the lighted dial of a clock that it was ten minutes to ten. In front
[Araby] [883] of me was a large building which displayed the magical name.
[Araby] [885] I could not find any sixpenny entrance and, fearing that the bazaar
[Araby] [888] girdled at half its height by a gallery. Nearly all the stalls were
[Araby] [889] closed and the greater part of the hall was in darkness. I recognised
[Araby] [891] walked into the centre of the bazaar timidly. A few people were
[Araby] [892] gathered about the stalls which were still open. Before a curtain,
[Araby] [893] over which the words Cafe Chantant were written in coloured
[Araby] [894] lamps, two men were counting money on a salver. I listened to the
[Araby] [895] fall of the coins.
[Araby] [898] the stalls and examined porcelain vases and flowered tea- sets. At
[Araby] [899] the door of the stall a young lady was talking and laughing with
[Araby] [915] Observing me the young lady came over and asked me did I wish
[Araby] [916] to buy anything. The tone of her voice was not encouraging; she
[Araby] [918] humbly at the great jars that stood like eastern guards at either side
[Araby] [919] of the dark entrance to the stall and murmured:
[Araby] [923] The young lady changed the position of one of the vases and went
[Araby] [924] back to the two young men. They began to talk of the same
[Araby] [925] subject. Once or twice the young lady glanced at me over her
[Araby] [929] make my interest in her wares seem the more real. Then I turned
[Araby] [930] away slowly and walked down the middle of the bazaar. I allowed
[Araby] [931] the two pennies to fall against the sixpence in my pocket. I heard a
[Araby] [932] voice call from one end of the gallery that the light was out. The
[Araby] [933] upper part of the hall was now completely dark.
[Araby] [935] Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and
[Eveline] [940] SHE sat at the window watching the evening invade the avenue.
[Eveline] [941] Her head was leaned against the window curtains and in her
[Eveline] [942] nostrils was the odour of dusty cretonne. She was tired.
[Eveline] [944] Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on his
[Eveline] [945] way home; she heard his footsteps clacking along the concrete
[Eveline] [946] pavement and afterwards crunching on the cinder path before the
[Eveline] [949] a man from Belfast bought the field and built houses in it--not
[Eveline] [951] roofs. The children of the avenue used to play together in that field
[Eveline] [952] --the Devines, the Waters, the Dunns, little Keogh the cripple, she
[Eveline] [954] too grown up. Her father used often to hunt them in out of the field
[Eveline] [960] Tizzie Dunn was dead, too, and the Waters had gone back to
[Eveline] [962] the others, to leave her home.
[Eveline] [964] Home! She looked round the room, reviewing all its familiar
[Eveline] [966] wondering where on earth all the dust came from. Perhaps she
[Eveline] [969] had never found out the name of the priest whose yellowing
[Eveline] [970] photograph hung on the wall above the broken harmonium beside
[Eveline] [971] the coloured print of the promises made to Blessed Margaret Mary
[Eveline] [973] showed the photograph to a visitor her father used to pass it with a
[Eveline] [979] She tried to weigh each side of the question. In her home anyway
[Eveline] [981] her life about her. O course she had to work hard, both in the
[Eveline] [982] house and at business. What would they say of her in the Stores
[Eveline] [992] She would not cry many tears at leaving the Stores.
[Eveline] [999] it was that that had given her the palpitations. When they were
[Eveline] [1004] dead and Harry, who was in the church decorating business, was
[Eveline] [1005] nearly always down somewhere in the country. Besides, the
[Eveline] [1008] shillings--and Harry always sent up what he could but the trouble
[Eveline] [1010] squander the money, that she had no head, that he wasn't going to
[Eveline] [1011] give her his hard-earned money to throw about the streets, and
[Eveline] [1012] much more, for he was usually fairly bad on Saturday night. In the
[Eveline] [1013] end he would give her the money and ask her had she any intention
[Eveline] [1016] tightly in her hand as she elbowed her way through the crowds and
[Eveline] [1018] work to keep the house together and to see that the two young
[Eveline] [1025] kind, manly, open-hearted. She was to go away with him by the
[Eveline] [1028] the first time she had seen him; he was lodging in a house on the
[Eveline] [1030] was standing at the gate, his peaked cap pushed back on his head
[Eveline] [1032] come to know each other. He used to meet her outside the Stores
[Eveline] [1033] every evening and see her home. He took her to see The Bohemian
[Eveline] [1034] Girl and she felt elated as she sat in an unaccustomed part of the
[Eveline] [1036] People knew that they were courting and, when he sang about the
[Eveline] [1041] at a pound a month on a ship of the Allan Line going out to
[Eveline] [1042] Canada. He told her the names of the ships he had been on and the
[Eveline] [1043] names of the different services. He had sailed through the Straits
[Eveline] [1044] of Magellan and he told her stories of the terrible Patagonians. He
[Eveline] [1046] to the old country just for a holiday. Of course, her father had
[Eveline] [1047] found out the affair and had forbidden her to have anything to say
[Eveline] [1055] The evening deepened in the avenue. The white of two letters in
[Eveline] [1056] her lap grew indistinct. One was to Harry; the other was to her
[Eveline] [1061] toast for her at the fire. Another day, when their mother was alive,
[Eveline] [1062] they had all gone for a picnic to the Hill of Howth. She
[Eveline] [1063] remembered her father putting on her mothers bonnet to make the
[Eveline] [1066] Her time was running out but she continued to sit by the window,
[Eveline] [1067] leaning her head against the window curtain, inhaling the odour of
[Eveline] [1068] dusty cretonne. Down far in the avenue she could hear a street
[Eveline] [1069] organ playing. She knew the air Strange that it should come that
[Eveline] [1070] very night to remind her of the promise to her mother, her promise
[Eveline] [1071] to keep the home together as long as she could. She remembered
[Eveline] [1072] the last night of her mother's illness; she was again in the close
[Eveline] [1073] dark room at the other side of the hall and outside she heard a
[Eveline] [1074] melancholy air of Italy. The organ-player had been ordered to go
[Eveline] [1076] back into the sickroom saying:
[Eveline] [1080] As she mused the pitiful vision of her mother's life laid its spell on
[Eveline] [1081] the very quick of her being--that life of commonplace sacrifices
[Eveline] [1093] She stood among the swaying crowd in the station at the North
[Eveline] [1095] saying something about the passage over and over again. The
[Eveline] [1096] station was full of soldiers with brown baggages. Through the wide
[Eveline] [1097] doors of the sheds she caught a glimpse of the black mass of the
[Eveline] [1098] boat, lying in beside the quay wall, with illumined portholes. She
[Eveline] [1101] was her duty. The boat blew a long mournful whistle into the mist.
[Eveline] [1102] If she went, tomorrow she would be on the sea with Frank,
[Eveline] [1112] All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing
[Eveline] [1114] the iron railing.
[Eveline] [1118] No! No! No! It was impossible. Her hands clutched the iron in
[Eveline] [1119] frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry of anguish.
[Eveline] [1123] He rushed beyond the barrier and called to her to follow. He was
[After the Race] [1128] AFTER THE RACE
[After the Race] [1130] THE cars came scudding in towards Dublin, running evenly like
[After the Race] [1131] pellets in the groove of the Naas Road. At the crest of the hill at
[After the Race] [1132] Inchicore sightseers had gathered in clumps to watch the cars
[After the Race] [1134] inaction the Continent sped its wealth and industry. Now and again
[After the Race] [1135] the clumps of people raised the cheer of the gratefully oppressed.
[After the Race] [1136] Their sympathy, however, was for the blue cars--the cars of their
[After the Race] [1137] friends, the French.
[After the Race] [1139] The French, moreover, were virtual victors. Their team had
[After the Race] [1140] finished solidly; they had been placed second and third and the
[After the Race] [1141] driver of the winning German car was reported a Belgian. Each
[After the Race] [1143] topped the crest of the hill and each cheer of welcome was
[After the Race] [1144] acknowledged with smiles and nods by those in the car. In one of
[After the Race] [1146] seemed to be at present well above the level of successful
[After the Race] [1148] They were Charles Segouin, the owner of the car; Andre Riviere, a
[After the Race] [1154] appointed manager of the establishment; these two young men
[After the Race] [1155] (who were cousins) were also in good humour because of the
[After the Race] [1156] success of the French cars. Villona was in good humour because
[After the Race] [1158] optimist by nature. The fourth member of the party, however, was
[After the Race] [1165] opening shops in Dublin and in the suburbs he had made his
[After the Race] [1167] secure some of the police contracts and in the end he had become
[After the Race] [1168] rich enough to be alluded to in the Dublin newspapers as a
[After the Race] [1175] little life. His father, remonstrative, but covertly proud of the
[After the Race] [1178] than acquaintances as yet but Jimmy found great pleasure in the
[After the Race] [1179] society of one who had seen so much of the world and was reputed
[After the Race] [1180] to own some of the biggest hotels in France. Such a person (as his
[After the Race] [1182] the charming companion he was. Villona was entertaining also--a
[After the Race] [1185] The car ran on merrily with its cargo of hilarious youth. The two
[After the Race] [1186] cousins sat on the front seat; Jimmy and his Hungarian friend sat
[After the Race] [1188] deep bass hum of melody for miles of the road The Frenchmen
[After the Race] [1190] Jimmy had to strain forward to catch the quick phrase. This was
[After the Race] [1192] deft guess at the meaning and shout back a suitable answer in the
[After the Race] [1194] anybody; the noise of the car, too.
[After the Race] [1197] the possession of money. These were three good reasons for
[After the Race] [1199] day in the company of these Continentals. At the control Segouin
[After the Race] [1200] had presented him to one of the French competitors and, in answer
[After the Race] [1201] to his confused murmur of compliment, the swarthy face of the
[After the Race] [1203] after that honour to return to the profane world of spectators amid
[After the Race] [1207] heart the inheritor of solid instincts knew well with what difficulty
[After the Race] [1209] bills within the limits of reasonable recklessness, and if he had
[After the Race] [1210] been so conscious of the labour latent in money when there had
[After the Race] [1211] been question merely of some freak of the higher intelligence, how
[After the Race] [1212] much more so now when he was about to stake the greater part of
[After the Race] [1215] Of course, the investment was a good one and Segouin had
[After the Race] [1216] managed to give the impression that it was by a favour of
[After the Race] [1217] friendship the mite of Irish money was to be included in the capital
[After the Race] [1218] of the concern. Jimmy had a respect for his father's shrewdness in
[After the Race] [1220] first suggested the investment; money to be made in the motor
[After the Race] [1221] business, pots of money. Moreover Segouin had the unmistakable
[After the Race] [1224] come careering along the country roads! The journey laid a
[After the Race] [1225] magical finger on the genuine pulse of life and gallantly the
[After the Race] [1226] machinery of human nerves strove to answer the bounding courses
[After the Race] [1227] of the swift blue animal.
[After the Race] [1229] They drove down Dame Street. The street was busy with unusual
[After the Race] [1230] traffic, loud with the horns of motorists and the gongs of impatient
[After the Race] [1231] tram-drivers. Near the Bank Segouin drew up and Jimmy and his
[After the Race] [1232] friend alighted. A little knot of people collected on the footpath to
[After the Race] [1233] pay homage to the snorting motor. The party was to dine together
[After the Race] [1235] friend, who was staying with him, were to go home to dress. The
[After the Race] [1236] car steered out slowly for Grafton Street while the two young men
[After the Race] [1237] pushed their way through the knot of gazers. They walked
[After the Race] [1238] northward with a curious feeling of disappointment in the exercise,
[After the Race] [1239] while the city hung its pale globes of light above them in a haze of
[After the Race] [1244] eagerness, also, to play fast and loose for the names of great
[After the Race] [1246] well when he was dressed and, as he stood in the hall giving a last
[After the Race] [1247] equation to the bows of his dress tie, his father may have felt even
[After the Race] [1252] upon the Hungarian, who was beginning to have a sharp desire for
[After the Race] [1255] The dinner was excellent, exquisite. Segouin, Jimmy decided, had
[After the Race] [1256] a very refined taste. The party was increased by a young
[After the Race] [1258] Cambridge. The young men supped in a snug room lit by electric
[After the Race] [1260] whose imagination was kindling, conceived the lively youth of the
[After the Race] [1261] Frenchmen twined elegantly upon the firm framework of the
[After the Race] [1263] just one. He admired the dexterity with which their host directed
[After the Race] [1264] the conversation. The five young men had various tastes and their
[After the Race] [1266] to discover to the mildly surprised Englishman the beauties of the
[After the Race] [1267] English madrigal, deploring the loss of old instruments. Riviere,
[After the Race] [1268] not wholly ingenuously, undertook to explain to Jimmy the
[After the Race] [1269] triumph of the French mechanicians. The resonant voice of the
[After the Race] [1270] Hungarian was about to prevail in ridicule of the spurious lutes of
[After the Race] [1271] the romantic painters when Segouin shepherded his party into
[After the Race] [1273] influences, felt the buried zeal of his father wake to life within
[After the Race] [1274] him: he aroused the torpid Routh at last. The room grew doubly
[After the Race] [1276] danger of personal spite. The alert host at an opportunity lifted his
[After the Race] [1277] glass to Humanity and, when the toast had been drunk, he threw
[After the Race] [1280] That night the city wore the mask of a capital. The five young men
[After the Race] [1283] shoulders. The people made way for them. At the corner of
[After the Race] [1285] a car in charge of another fat man. The car drove off and the short
[After the Race] [1286] fat man caught sight of the party.
[After the Race] [1293] very well what the talk was about. Villona and Riviere were the
[After the Race] [1294] noisiest, but all the men were excited. They got up on a car,
[After the Race] [1296] the crowd, blended now into soft colours, to a music of merry
[After the Race] [1297] bells. They took the train at Westland Row and in a few seconds,
[After the Race] [1299] Station. The ticket-collector saluted Jimmy; he was an old man:
[After the Race] [1303] It was a serene summer night; the harbour lay like a darkened
[After the Race] [1309] They got into a rowboat at the slip and made out for the
[After the Race] [1315] There was a yacht piano in the cabin. Villona played a waltz for
[After the Race] [1317] Then an impromptu square dance, the men devising original
[After the Race] [1320] A man brought in a light supper, and the young men sat down to it
[After the Race] [1322] drank Ireland, England, France, Hungary, the United States of
[After the Race] [1326] speech. Farley clapped him on the back and laughed loudly. What
[After the Race] [1329] Cards! cards! The table was cleared. Villona returned quietly to his
[After the Race] [1330] piano and played voluntaries for them. The other men played game
[After the Race] [1331] after game, flinging themselves boldly into the adventure. They
[After the Race] [1332] drank the health of the Queen of Hearts and of the Queen of
[After the Race] [1333] Diamonds. Jimmy felt obscurely the lack of an audience: the wit
[After the Race] [1337] and the other men had to calculate his I.O.U.'s for him. They were
[After the Race] [1339] Someone gave the toast of the yacht The Belle of Newport and
[After the Race] [1342] The piano had stopped; Villona must have gone up on deck. It was
[After the Race] [1343] a terrible game. They stopped just before the end of it to drink for
[After the Race] [1344] luck. Jimmy understood that the game lay between Routh and
[After the Race] [1346] of course. How much had he written away? The men rose to their
[After the Race] [1347] feet to play the last tricks. talking and gesticulating. Routh won.
[After the Race] [1348] The cabin shook with the young men's cheering and the cards were
[After the Race] [1350] Farley and Jimmy were the heaviest losers.
[After the Race] [1352] He knew that he would regret in the morning but at present he was
[After the Race] [1353] glad of the rest, glad of the dark stupor that would cover up his
[After the Race] [1354] folly. He leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head
[After the Race] [1355] between his hands, counting the beats of his temples. The cabin
[After the Race] [1356] door opened and he saw the Hungarian standing in a shaft of grey
[Two Gallants] [1363] THE grey warm evening of August had descended upon the city
[Two Gallants] [1364] and a mild warm air, a memory of summer, circulated in the
[Two Gallants] [1365] streets. The streets, shuttered for the repose of Sunday, swarmed
[Two Gallants] [1366] with a gaily coloured crowd. Like illumined pearls the lamps
[Two Gallants] [1367] shone from the summits of their tall poles upon the living texture
[Two Gallants] [1368] below which, changing shape and hue unceasingly, sent up into the
[Two Gallants] [1371] Two young men came down the hill of Rutland Square. On of
[Two Gallants] [1372] them was just bringing a long monologue to a close. The other,
[Two Gallants] [1373] who walked on the verge of the path and was at times obliged to
[Two Gallants] [1374] step on to the road, owing to his companion's rudeness, wore an
[Two Gallants] [1376] was shoved far back from his forehead and the narrative to which
[Two Gallants] [1378] face from the corners of his nose and eyes and mouth. Little jets of
[Two Gallants] [1382] rearranged the light waterproof which he had slung over one
[Two Gallants] [1385] fell into rotundity at the waist, his hair was scant and grey and his
[Two Gallants] [1386] face, when the waves of expression had passed over it, had a
[Two Gallants] [1389] When he was quite sure that the narrative had ended he laughed
[Two Gallants] [1392] "Well!... That takes the biscuit!"
[Two Gallants] [1397] "That takes the solitary, unique, and, if I may so call it, recherche
[Two Gallants] [1401] was tired for he had been talking all the afternoon in a
[Two Gallants] [1406] them in a bar and of holding himself nimbly at the borders of the
[Two Gallants] [1410] he achieved the stern task of living, but his name was vaguely
[Two Gallants] [1419] you know. So we went for a walk round by the canal and she told
[Two Gallants] [1425] and paying the tram out and back. And one night she brought me
[Two Gallants] [1426] two bloody fine cigars--O, the real cheese, you know, that the old
[Two Gallants] [1427] fellow used to smoke.... I was afraid, man, she'd get in the family
[Two Gallants] [1428] way. But she's up to the dodge."
[Two Gallants] [1438] "Of all the good ones ever I heard," he said, "that emphatically
[Two Gallants] [1439] takes the biscuit."
[Two Gallants] [1441] Corley's stride acknowledged the compliment. The swing of his
[Two Gallants] [1442] burly body made his friend execute a few light skips from the path
[Two Gallants] [1443] to the roadway and back again. Corley was the son of an inspector
[Two Gallants] [1450] parade and, when he wished to gaze after someone in the street, it
[Two Gallants] [1451] was necessary for him to move his body from the hips. At present
[Two Gallants] [1453] always ready to give him the hard word. He was often to be seen
[Two Gallants] [1455] knew the inner side of all affairs and was fond of delivering final
[Two Gallants] [1456] judgments. He spoke without listening to the speech of his
[Two Gallants] [1459] and what he had said to settle the matter. When he reported these
[Two Gallants] [1460] dialogues he aspirated the first letter of his name after the manner
[Two Gallants] [1463] Lenehan offered his friend a cigarette. As the two young men
[Two Gallants] [1464] walked on through the crowd Corley occasionally turned to smile
[Two Gallants] [1465] at some of the passing girls but Lenehan's gaze was fixed on the
[Two Gallants] [1467] the passing of the grey web of twilight across its face. At length he
[Two Gallants] [1478] "She's all right," said Corley. "I know the way to get around her,
[Two Gallants] [1481] "You're what I call a gay Lothario," said Lenehan. "And the proper
[Two Gallants] [1484] A shade of mockery relieved the servility of his manner. To save
[Two Gallants] [1485] himself he had the habit of leaving his flattery open to the
[Two Gallants] [1494] "girls off the South Circular. I used to take them out, man, on the
[Two Gallants] [1495] tram somewhere and pay the tram or take them to a band or a play
[Two Gallants] [1496] at the theatre or buy them chocolate and sweets or something that
[Two Gallants] [1504] "And damn the thing I ever got out of it," said Corley.
[Two Gallants] [1510] He moistened his upper lip by running his tongue along it. The
[Two Gallants] [1511] recollection brightened his eyes. He too gazed at the pale disc of
[Two Gallants] [1512] the moon, now nearly veiled, and seemed to meditate.
[Two Gallants] [1518] "She's on the turf now. I saw her driving down Earl Street one
[Two Gallants] [1536] As they passed along the railings of Trinity College, Lenehan
[Two Gallants] [1537] skipped out into the road and peered up at the clock.
[Two Gallants] [1561] temper, to be sent to the devil and told that his advice was not
[Two Gallants] [1569] Street. Not far from the porch of the club a harpist stood in the
[Two Gallants] [1570] roadway, playing to a little ring of listeners. He plucked at the
[Two Gallants] [1571] wires heedlessly, glancing quickly from time to time at the face of
[Two Gallants] [1572] each new-comer and from time to time, wearily also, at the sky.
[Two Gallants] [1574] knees, seemed weary alike of the eyes of strangers and of her
[Two Gallants] [1575] master's hands. One hand played in the bass the melody of Silent,
[Two Gallants] [1576] O Moyle, while the other hand careered in the treble after each
[Two Gallants] [1577] group of notes. The notes of the air sounded deep and full.
[Two Gallants] [1579] The two young men walked up the street without speaking, the
[Two Gallants] [1581] Green they crossed the road. Here the noise of trams, the lights and
[Two Gallants] [1582] the crowd released them from their silence.
[Two Gallants] [1586] At the corner of Hume Street a young woman was standing. She
[Two Gallants] [1587] wore a blue dress and a white sailor hat. She stood on the
[Two Gallants] [1605] Corley had already thrown one leg over the chains when Lenehan
[Two Gallants] [1618] Corley did not answer. He sauntered across the road swaying his
[Two Gallants] [1619] head from side to side. His bulk, his easy pace, and the solid sound
[Two Gallants] [1620] of his boots had something of the conqueror in them. He
[Two Gallants] [1621] approached the young woman and, without saluting, began at once
[Two Gallants] [1627] along beside the chains at some distance and crossed the road
[Two Gallants] [1628] obliquely. As he approached Hume Street corner he found the air
[Two Gallants] [1629] heavily scented and his eyes made a swift anxious scrutiny of the
[Two Gallants] [1631] blue serge skirt was held at the waist by a belt of black leather.
[Two Gallants] [1632] The great silver buckle of her belt seemed to depress the centre of
[Two Gallants] [1633] her body, catching the light stuff of her white blouse like a clip.
[Two Gallants] [1635] ragged black boa. The ends of her tulle collarette had been
[Two Gallants] [1643] Corley returned a salute to the air. This he did by raising his hand
[Two Gallants] [1644] vaguely and pensively changing the angle of position of his hat.
[Two Gallants] [1646] Lenehan walked as far as the Shelbourne Hotel where he halted
[Two Gallants] [1648] towards him and, when they turned to the right, he followed them,
[Two Gallants] [1651] watched Corley's head which turned at every moment towards the
[Two Gallants] [1653] the pair in view until he had seen them climbing the stairs of the
[Two Gallants] [1654] Donnybrook tram; then he turned about and went back the way he
[Two Gallants] [1658] forsake him and, as he came by the railings of the Duke's Lawn, he
[Two Gallants] [1659] allowed his hand to run along them. The air which the harpist had
[Two Gallants] [1661] played the melody while his fingers swept a scale of variations idly
[Two Gallants] [1662] along the railings after each group of notes.
[Two Gallants] [1665] Street. Though his eyes took note of many elements of the crowd
[Two Gallants] [1667] that was meant to charm him and did not answer the glances which
[Two Gallants] [1670] too dry for such a task. The problem of how he could pass the
[Two Gallants] [1672] of no way of passing them but to keep on walking. He turned to the
[Two Gallants] [1673] left when he came to the corner of Rutland Square and felt more at
[Two Gallants] [1674] ease in the dark quiet street, the sombre look of which suited his
[Two Gallants] [1675] mood. He paused at last before the window of a poor-looking shop
[Two Gallants] [1676] over which the words Refreshment Bar were printed in white
[Two Gallants] [1677] letters. On the glass of the window were two flying inscriptions:
[Two Gallants] [1681] after glancing warily up and down the street, went into the shop
[Two Gallants] [1692] "Three halfpence, sir," said the girl.
[Two Gallants] [1699] elbows on the table. The mechanic and the two work-girls
[Two Gallants] [1701] a subdued voice. The girl brought him a plate of grocer's hot peas,
[Two Gallants] [1704] the shop mentally. When he had eaten all the peas he sipped his
[Two Gallants] [1706] In his imagination he beheld the pair of lovers walking along some
[Two Gallants] [1708] saw again the leer of the young woman's mouth. This vision made
[Two Gallants] [1710] of knocking about, of pulling the devil by the tail, of shifts and
[Two Gallants] [1714] a good dinner to sit down to. He had walked the streets long
[Two Gallants] [1716] were worth: he knew the girls too. Experience had embittered his
[Two Gallants] [1717] heart against the world. But all hope had not left him. He felt
[Two Gallants] [1721] some good simple-minded girl with a little of the ready.
[Two Gallants] [1723] He paid twopence halfpenny to the slatternly girl and went out of
[Two Gallants] [1724] the shop to begin his wandering again. He went into Capel Street
[Two Gallants] [1725] and walked along towards the City Hall. Then he turned into Dame
[Two Gallants] [1726] Street. At the corner of George's Street he met two friends of his
[Two Gallants] [1729] what was the latest. He replied that he had spent the day with
[Two Gallants] [1731] some figures in the crowd and sometimes made a critical remark.
[Two Gallants] [1733] Street. At this Lenehan said that he had been with Mac the night
[Two Gallants] [1734] before in Egan's. The young man who had seen Mac in
[Two Gallants] [1740] He turned to the left at the City Markets and walked on into
[Two Gallants] [1741] Grafton Street. The crowd of girls and young men had thinned and
[Two Gallants] [1742] on his way up the street he heard many groups and couples bidding
[Two Gallants] [1743] one another good-night. He went as far as the clock of the College
[Two Gallants] [1744] of Surgeons: it was on the stroke of ten. He set off briskly along
[Two Gallants] [1745] the northern side of the Green hurrying for fear Corley should
[Two Gallants] [1746] return too soon. When he reached the corner of Merrion Street he
[Two Gallants] [1747] took his stand in the shadow of a lamp and brought out one of the
[Two Gallants] [1748] cigarettes which he had reserved and lit it. He leaned against the
[Two Gallants] [1749] lamp-post and kept his gaze fixed on the part from which he
[Two Gallants] [1750] expected to see Corley and the young woman return.
[Two Gallants] [1754] leave it to the last. He suffered all the pangs and thrills of his
[Two Gallants] [1755] friend's situation as well as those of his own. But the memory of
[Two Gallants] [1757] Corley would pull it off all right. All at once the idea struck him
[Two Gallants] [1759] him the slip. His eyes searched the street: there was no sign of
[Two Gallants] [1760] them. Yet it was surely half-an-hour since he had seen the clock of
[Two Gallants] [1761] the College of Surgeons. Would Corley do a thing like that? He lit
[Two Gallants] [1763] eyes as each tram stopped at the far corner of the square. They
[Two Gallants] [1764] must have gone home by another way. The paper of his cigarette
[Two Gallants] [1765] broke and he flung it into the road with a curse.
[Two Gallants] [1768] delight and keeping close to his lamp-post tried to read the result
[Two Gallants] [1769] in their walk. They were walking quickly, the young woman taking
[Two Gallants] [1771] They did not seem to be speaking. An intimation of the result
[Two Gallants] [1772] pricked him like the point of a sharp instrument. He knew Corley
[Two Gallants] [1776] taking the other footpath. When they stopped he stopped too. They
[Two Gallants] [1777] talked for a few moments and then the young woman went down
[Two Gallants] [1778] the steps into the area of a house. Corley remained standing at the
[Two Gallants] [1779] edge of the path, a little distance from the front steps. Some
[Two Gallants] [1780] minutes passed. Then the hall-door was opened slowly and
[Two Gallants] [1781] cautiously. A woman came running down the front steps and
[Two Gallants] [1784] up the steps. The door closed on her and Corley began to walk
[Two Gallants] [1787] Lenehan hurried on in the same direction. Some drops of light rain
[Two Gallants] [1788] fell. He took them as a warning and, glancing back towards the
[Two Gallants] [1789] house which the young woman had entered to see that he was not
[Two Gallants] [1790] observed, he ran eagerly across the road. Anxiety and his swift run
[Two Gallants] [1796] continued walking as before. Lenehan ran after him, settling the
[Two Gallants] [1806] They had reached the corner of Ely Place. Still without answering,
[Two Gallants] [1807] Corley swerved to the left and went up the side street. His features
[Two Gallants] [1814] Corley halted at the first lamp and stared grimly before him. Then
[Two Gallants] [1815] with a grave gesture he extended a hand towards the light and,
[Two Gallants] [1816] smiling, opened it slowly to the gaze of his disciple. A small gold
[Two Gallants] [1817] coin shone in the palm.
[The Boarding House] [1819] THE BOARDING HOUSE
[The Boarding House] [1825] Mooney began to go to the devil. He drank, plundered the till, ran
[The Boarding House] [1826] headlong into debt. It was no use making him take the pledge: he
[The Boarding House] [1828] in the presence of customers and by buying bad meat he ruined his
[The Boarding House] [1829] business. One night he went for his wife with the cleaver and she
[The Boarding House] [1832] After that they lived apart. She went to the priest and got a
[The Boarding House] [1833] separation from him with care of the children. She would give him
[The Boarding House] [1838] day long he sat in the bailiff's room, waiting to be put on a job.
[The Boarding House] [1840] the butcher business and set up a boarding house in Hardwicke
[The Boarding House] [1842] population made up of tourists from Liverpool and the Isle of Man
[The Boarding House] [1843] and, occasionally, artistes from the music halls. Its resident
[The Boarding House] [1844] population was made up of clerks from the city. She governed the
[The Boarding House] [1846] stern and when to let things pass. All the resident young men spoke
[The Boarding House] [1847] of her as The Madam.
[The Boarding House] [1853] chummy with one another. They discussed with one another the
[The Boarding House] [1854] chances of favourites and outsiders. Jack Mooney, the Madam's
[The Boarding House] [1855] son, who was clerk to a commission agent in Fleet Street, had the
[The Boarding House] [1857] obscenities: usually he came home in the small hours. When he
[The Boarding House] [1860] a likely artiste. He was also handy with the mits and sang comic
[The Boarding House] [1862] Mooney's front drawing-room. The music-hall artistes would
[The Boarding House] [1864] accompaniments. Polly Mooney, the Madam's daughter, would
[The Boarding House] [1877] come every other day to the office, asking to be allowed to say a
[The Boarding House] [1879] set her to do housework. As Polly was very lively the intention was
[The Boarding House] [1880] to give her the run of the young men. Besides young men like to
[The Boarding House] [1882] course, flirted with the young men but Mrs. Mooney, who was a
[The Boarding House] [1883] shrewd judge, knew that the young men were only passing the time
[The Boarding House] [1887] between Polly and one of the young men. She watched the pair and
[The Boarding House] [1893] understanding but, though people in the house began to talk of the
[The Boarding House] [1895] little strange in her manner and the young man was evidently
[The Boarding House] [1896] perturbed. At last, when she judged it to be the right moment, Mrs.
[The Boarding House] [1901] but with a fresh breeze blowing. All the windows of the boarding
[The Boarding House] [1902] house were open and the lace curtains ballooned gently towards
[The Boarding House] [1903] the street beneath the raised sashes. The belfry of George's Church
[The Boarding House] [1905] traversed the little circus before the church, revealing their purpose
[The Boarding House] [1906] by their self-contained demeanour no less than by the little
[The Boarding House] [1907] volumes in their gloved hands. Breakfast was over in the boarding
[The Boarding House] [1908] house and the table of the breakfast-room was covered with plates
[The Boarding House] [1910] bacon-rind. Mrs. Mooney sat in the straw arm-chair and watched
[The Boarding House] [1911] the servant Mary remove the breakfast things. She mad Mary
[The Boarding House] [1912] collect the crusts and pieces of broken bread to help to make
[The Boarding House] [1913] Tuesday's bread- pudding. When the table was cleared, the broken
[The Boarding House] [1914] bread collected, the sugar and butter safe under lock and key, she
[The Boarding House] [1915] began to reconstruct the interview which she had had the night
[The Boarding House] [1919] awkward by her not wishing to receive the news in too cavalier a
[The Boarding House] [1923] in her wise innocence she had divined the intention behind her
[The Boarding House] [1926] Mrs. Mooney glanced instinctively at the little gilt clock on the
[The Boarding House] [1928] that the bells of George's Church had stopped ringing. It was
[The Boarding House] [1930] the matter out with Mr. Doran and then catch short twelve at
[The Boarding House] [1932] she had all the weight of social opinion on her side: she was an
[The Boarding House] [1937] be his excuse since he was a man who had seen something of the
[The Boarding House] [1939] inexperience: that was evident. The question was: What reparation
[The Boarding House] [1943] the man: he can go his ways as if nothing had happened, having
[The Boarding House] [1944] had his moment of pleasure, but the girl has to bear the brunt.
[The Boarding House] [1947] For her only one reparation could make up for the loss of her
[The Boarding House] [1953] like the others. If it had been Mr. Sheridan or Mr. Meade or
[The Boarding House] [1955] think he would face publicity. All the lodgers in the house knew
[The Boarding House] [1956] something of the affair; details had been invented by some.
[The Boarding House] [1959] him, perhaps, the loss of his job. Whereas if he agreed all might be
[The Boarding House] [1963] Nearly the half-hour! She stood up and surveyed herself in the
[The Boarding House] [1964] pier-glass. The decisive expression of her great florid face satisfied
[The Boarding House] [1973] pocket-handkerchief. The recollection of his confession of the
[The Boarding House] [1974] night before was a cause of acute pain to him; the priest had drawn
[The Boarding House] [1975] out every ridiculous detail of the affair and in the end had so
[The Boarding House] [1977] loophole of reparation. The harm was done. What could he do now
[The Boarding House] [1978] but marry her or run away? He could not brazen it out. The affair
[The Boarding House] [1987] of course; he had boasted of his free-thinking and denied the
[The Boarding House] [1991] duties and for nine-tenths of the year lived a regular life. He had
[The Boarding House] [1992] money enough to settle down on; it was not that. But the family
[The Boarding House] [1996] imagine his friends talking of the affair and laughing. She was a
[The Boarding House] [2004] While he was sitting helplessly on the side of the bed in shirt and
[The Boarding House] [2015] right, never fear. He felt against his shirt the agitation of her
[The Boarding House] [2019] remembered well, with the curious patient memory of the celibate,
[The Boarding House] [2020] the first casual caresses her dress, her breath, her fingers had given
[The Boarding House] [2025] shone in the opening of her furry slippers and the blood glowed
[The Boarding House] [2031] him alone, at night, in the sleeping house. And her thoughtfulness!
[The Boarding House] [2032] If the night was anyway cold or wet or windy there was sure to be
[The Boarding House] [2037] and on the third landing exchange reluctant goodnights. They used
[The Boarding House] [2038] to kiss. He remembered well her eyes, the touch of her hand and
[The Boarding House] [2042] "What am I to do?" The instinct of the celibate warned him to hold
[The Boarding House] [2043] back. But the sin was there; even his sense of honour told him that
[The Boarding House] [2046] While he was sitting with her on the side of the bed Mary came to
[The Boarding House] [2047] the door and said that the missus wanted to see him in the parlour.
[The Boarding House] [2050] would be all right, never fear. He left her crying on the bed and
[The Boarding House] [2053] Going down the stairs his glasses became so dimmed with
[The Boarding House] [2055] to ascend through the roof and fly away to another country where
[The Boarding House] [2057] him downstairs step by step. The implacable faces of his employer
[The Boarding House] [2058] and of the Madam stared upon his discomfiture. On the last flight
[The Boarding House] [2059] of stairs he passed Jack Mooney who was coming up from the
[The Boarding House] [2060] pantry nursing two bottles of Bass. They saluted coldly; and the
[The Boarding House] [2062] a pair of thick short arms. When he reached the foot of the
[The Boarding House] [2063] staircase he glanced up and saw Jack regarding him from the door
[The Boarding House] [2064] of the return-room.
[The Boarding House] [2066] Suddenly he remembered the night when one of the musichall
[The Boarding House] [2068] Polly. The reunion had been almost broken up on account of Jack's
[The Boarding House] [2069] violence. Everyone tried to quiet him. The music-hall artiste, a
[The Boarding House] [2075] Polly sat for a little time on the side of the bed, crying. Then she
[The Boarding House] [2076] dried her eyes and went over to the looking-glass. She dipped the
[The Boarding House] [2077] end of the towel in the water-jug and refreshed her eyes with the
[The Boarding House] [2079] hairpin above her ear. Then she went back to the bed again and sat
[The Boarding House] [2080] at the foot. She regarded the pillows for a long time and the sight
[The Boarding House] [2082] rested the nape of her neck against the cool iron bed-rail and fell
[The Boarding House] [2087] memories gradually giving place to hopes and visions of the
[The Boarding House] [2089] saw the white pillows on which her gaze was fixed or remembered
[The Boarding House] [2093] to the banisters.
[A Little Cloud] [2105] EIGHT years before he had seen his friend off at the North Wall
[A Little Cloud] [2109] remain unspoiled by such success. Gallaher's heart was in the right
[A Little Cloud] [2114] meeting with Gallaher, of Gallaher's invitation and of the great city
[A Little Cloud] [2116] because, though he was but slightly under the average stature, he
[A Little Cloud] [2117] gave one the idea of being a little man. His hands were white and
[A Little Cloud] [2119] were refined. He took the greatest care of his fair silken hair and
[A Little Cloud] [2120] moustache and used perfume discreetly on his handkerchief. The
[A Little Cloud] [2124] As he sat at his desk in the King's Inns he thought what changes
[A Little Cloud] [2125] those eight years had brought. The friend whom he had known
[A Little Cloud] [2127] on the London Press. He turned often from his tiresome writing to
[A Little Cloud] [2128] gaze out of the office window. The glow of a late autumn sunset
[A Little Cloud] [2129] covered the grass plots and walks. It cast a shower of kindly
[A Little Cloud] [2130] golden dust on the untidy nurses and decrepit old men who
[A Little Cloud] [2131] drowsed on the benches; it flickered upon all the moving figures--
[A Little Cloud] [2132] on the children who ran screaming along the gravel paths and on
[A Little Cloud] [2133] everyone who passed through the gardens. He watched the scene
[A Little Cloud] [2137] the burden of wisdom which the ages had bequeathed to him.
[A Little Cloud] [2139] He remembered the books of poetry upon his shelves at home. He
[A Little Cloud] [2141] sat in the little room off the hall, he had been tempted to take one
[A Little Cloud] [2142] down from the bookshelf and read out something to his wife. But
[A Little Cloud] [2143] shyness had always held him back; and so the books had remained
[A Little Cloud] [2148] and of his fellow-clerks punctiliously. He emerged from under the
[A Little Cloud] [2149] feudal arch of the King's Inns, a neat modest figure, and walked
[A Little Cloud] [2150] swiftly down Henrietta Street. The golden sunset was waning and
[A Little Cloud] [2151] the air had grown sharp. A horde of grimy children populated the
[A Little Cloud] [2152] street. They stood or ran in the roadway or crawled up the steps
[A Little Cloud] [2153] before the gaping doors or squatted like mice upon the thresholds.
[A Little Cloud] [2155] through all that minute vermin-like life and under the shadow of
[A Little Cloud] [2156] the gaunt spectral mansions in which the old nobility of Dublin
[A Little Cloud] [2157] had roystered. No memory of the past touched him, for his mind
[A Little Cloud] [2160] He had never been in Corless's but he knew the value of the name.
[A Little Cloud] [2161] He knew that people went there after the theatre to eat oysters and
[A Little Cloud] [2162] drink liqueurs; and he had heard that the waiters there spoke
[A Little Cloud] [2164] drawn up before the door and richly dressed ladies, escorted by
[A Little Cloud] [2169] walk swiftly in the street even by day and whenever he found
[A Little Cloud] [2170] himself in the city late at night he hurried on his way
[A Little Cloud] [2171] apprehensively and excitedly. Sometimes, however, he courted the
[A Little Cloud] [2172] causes of his fear. He chose the darkest and narrowest streets and,
[A Little Cloud] [2173] as he walked boldly forward, the silence that was spread about his
[A Little Cloud] [2174] footsteps troubled him, the wandering, silent figures troubled him;
[A Little Cloud] [2178] He turned to the right towards Capel Street. Ignatius Gallaher on
[A Little Cloud] [2179] the London Press! Who would have thought it possible eight years
[A Little Cloud] [2180] before? Still, now that he reviewed the past, Little Chandler could
[A Little Cloud] [2184] money on all sides. In the end he had got mixed up in some shady
[A Little Cloud] [2190] the remembrance brought a slight flush of pride to his cheek) one
[A Little Cloud] [2199] Little Chandler quickened his pace. For the first time in his life he
[A Little Cloud] [2200] felt himself superior to the people he passed. For the first time his
[A Little Cloud] [2201] soul revolted against the dull inelegance of Capel Street. There
[A Little Cloud] [2204] Bridge he looked down the river towards the lower quays and
[A Little Cloud] [2205] pitied the poor stunted houses. They seemed to him a band of
[A Little Cloud] [2206] tramps, huddled together along the riverbanks, their old coats
[A Little Cloud] [2207] covered with dust and soot, stupefied by the panorama of sunset
[A Little Cloud] [2208] and waiting for the first chill of night bid them arise, shake
[A Little Cloud] [2212] original? He was not sure what idea he wished to express but the
[A Little Cloud] [2217] sober inartistic life. A light began to tremble on the horizon of his
[A Little Cloud] [2219] said to be just at the point of maturity. There were so many
[A Little Cloud] [2222] was a poet's soul. Melancholy was the dominant note of his
[A Little Cloud] [2226] He would never be popular: he saw that. He could not sway the
[A Little Cloud] [2227] crowd but he might appeal to a little circle of kindred minds. The
[A Little Cloud] [2228] English critics, perhaps, would recognise him as one of the Celtic
[A Little Cloud] [2229] school by reason of the melancholy tone of his poems; besides
[A Little Cloud] [2231] phrases from the notice which his book would get. "Mr. Chandler
[A Little Cloud] [2232] has the gift of easy and graceful verse." ... "wistful sadness
[A Little Cloud] [2233] pervades these poems." ... "The Celtic note." It was a pity his name
[A Little Cloud] [2235] mother's name before the surname: Thomas Malone Chandler, or
[A Little Cloud] [2241] to overmaster him and he halted before the door in indecision.
[A Little Cloud] [2242] Finally he opened the door and entered.
[A Little Cloud] [2244] The light and noise of the bar held him at the doorways for a few
[A Little Cloud] [2245] moments. He looked about him, but his sight was confused by the
[A Little Cloud] [2246] shining of many red and green wine-glasses The bar seemed to him
[A Little Cloud] [2247] to be full of people and he felt that the people were observing him
[A Little Cloud] [2251] enough, was Ignatius Gallaher leaning with his back against the
[A Little Cloud] [2255] you have? I'm taking whisky: better stuff than we get across the
[A Little Cloud] [2256] water. Soda? Lithia? No mineral? I'm the same Spoils the
[A Little Cloud] [2260] signs of aging in me--eh, what? A little grey and thin on the top--
[A Little Cloud] [2266] and shone out plainly above the vivid orange tie he wore. Between
[A Little Cloud] [2267] these rival features the lips appeared very long and shapeless and
[A Little Cloud] [2269] the thin hair at the crown. Little Chandler shook his head as a
[A Little Cloud] [2275] for a few days. I'm deuced glad, I can tell you, to get back to the
[A Little Cloud] [2286] odd half-one or so when I meet any of the old crowd: that's all."
[A Little Cloud] [2291] They clinked glasses and drank the toast.
[A Little Cloud] [2293] "I met some of the old gang today," said Ignatius Gallaher. "O'Hara
[A Little Cloud] [2296] "Nothing, said Little Chandler. "He's gone to the dogs."
[A Little Cloud] [2300] "Yes; he's in the Land Commission."
[A Little Cloud] [2309] "Tommy," he said, "I see you haven't changed an atom. You're the
[A Little Cloud] [2312] want to knock about a bit in the world. Have you never been
[A Little Cloud] [2315] "I've been to the Isle of Man," said Little Chandler.
[A Little Cloud] [2319] "The Isle of Man!" he said. "Go to London or Paris: Paris, for
[A Little Cloud] [2331] "Beautiful?" said Ignatius Gallaher, pausing on the word and on
[A Little Cloud] [2332] the flavour of his drink. "It's not so beautiful, you know. Of course,
[A Little Cloud] [2333] it is beautiful.... But it's the life of Paris; that's the thing. Ah, there's
[A Little Cloud] [2337] succeeded in catching the barman's eye. He ordered the same
[A Little Cloud] [2340] "I've been to the Moulin Rouge," Ignatius Gallaher continued when
[A Little Cloud] [2341] the barman had removed their glasses, "and I've been to all the
[A Little Cloud] [2345] Little Chandler said nothing until the barman returned with two
[A Little Cloud] [2347] the former toast. He was beginning to feel somewhat disillusioned.
[A Little Cloud] [2350] observed before. But perhaps it was only the result of living in
[A Little Cloud] [2351] London amid the bustle and competition of the Press. The old
[A Little Cloud] [2353] after all, Gallaher had lived, he had seen the world. Little Chandler
[A Little Cloud] [2359] they've a great feeling for the Irish there. When they heard I was
[A Little Cloud] [2370] bits in Paris. Go to one of the students' balls, for instance. That's
[A Little Cloud] [2371] lively, if you like, when the cocottes begin to let themselves loose.
[A Little Cloud] [2379] the Parisienne--for style, for go."
[A Little Cloud] [2385] of the other. You ask Hogan, my boy. I showed him a bit about
[A Little Cloud] [2391] "O, come on, another one won't do you any harm. What is it? The
[A Little Cloud] [2396] "Francois, the same again.... Will you smoke, Tommy?"
[A Little Cloud] [2398] Ignatius Gallaher produced his cigar-case. The two friends lit their
[A Little Cloud] [2402] some time from the clouds of smoke in which he had taken refuge,
[A Little Cloud] [2408] pictures of the corruption which was rife abroad. He summarised
[A Little Cloud] [2409] the vices of many capitals and seemed inclined to award the palm
[A Little Cloud] [2412] neither rank nor caste. He revealed many of the secrets of religious
[A Little Cloud] [2413] houses on the Continent and described some of the practices which
[A Little Cloud] [2421] "How dull you must find it," said Little Chandler, "after all the
[A Little Cloud] [2425] you know. And, after all, it's the old country, as they say, isn't it?
[A Little Cloud] [2428] had... tasted the joys of connubial bliss. Two years ago, wasn't it?"
[A Little Cloud] [2434] "I hope it's not too late in the day to offer my best wishes," said
[A Little Cloud] [2436] at the time."
[A Little Cloud] [2442] you. And that's the wish of a sincere friend, an old friend. You
[A Little Cloud] [2457] Ignatius Gallaher slapped his friend sonorously on the back.
[A Little Cloud] [2480] I may take a little skip over here now that I've broken the ice. It's
[A Little Cloud] [2483] "Very well," said Little Chandler, "the next time you come we
[A Little Cloud] [2489] "And to clinch the bargain," said Little Chandler, "we'll just have
[A Little Cloud] [2494] "Is it to be the last?" he said. "Because you know, I have an a.p."
[A Little Cloud] [2502] Little Chandler ordered the drinks. The blush which had risen to
[A Little Cloud] [2507] person. The adventure of meeting Gallaher after eight years, of
[A Little Cloud] [2510] space Gallaher's vagrant and triumphant life, upset the equipoise of
[A Little Cloud] [2511] his sensitive nature. He felt acutely the contrast between his own
[A Little Cloud] [2515] something higher than mere tawdry journalism if he only got the
[A Little Cloud] [2522] The barman brought their drinks. Little Chandler pushed one glass
[A Little Cloud] [2523] towards his friend and took up the other boldly.
[A Little Cloud] [2526] come next year I may have the pleasure of wishing long life and
[A Little Cloud] [2529] Ignatius Gallaher in the act of drinking closed one eye expressively
[A Little Cloud] [2530] over the rim of his glass. When he had drunk he smacked his lips
[A Little Cloud] [2534] and see a bit of life and the world before I put my head in the sack
[A Little Cloud] [2544] "You'll put your head in the sack," repeated Little Chandler stoutly,
[A Little Cloud] [2545] "like everyone else if you can find the girl."
[A Little Cloud] [2548] betrayed himself; but, though the colour had heightened in his
[A Little Cloud] [2554] have a good fat account at the bank or she won't do for me."
[A Little Cloud] [2559] know what it is? I've only to say the word and tomorrow I can have
[A Little Cloud] [2560] the woman and the cash. You don't believe it? Well, I know it.
[A Little Cloud] [2573] He imitated with his mouth the act of tasting and made a wry face.
[A Little Cloud] [2577] Little Chandler sat in the room off the hall, holding a child in his
[A Little Cloud] [2579] Monica came for an hour or so in the morning and an hour or so in
[A Little Cloud] [2580] the evening to help. But Monica had gone home long ago. It was a
[A Little Cloud] [2582] moreover, he had forgotten to bring Annie home the parcel of
[A Little Cloud] [2585] when it came near the time at which the shop at the corner closed
[A Little Cloud] [2587] two pounds of sugar. She put the sleeping child deftly in his arms
[A Little Cloud] [2592] A little lamp with a white china shade stood upon the table and its
[A Little Cloud] [2595] at it, pausing at the thin tight lips. She wore the pale blue summer
[A Little Cloud] [2599] at the shop door until the shop was empty, standing at the counter
[A Little Cloud] [2600] and trying to appear at his ease while the girl piled ladies' blouses
[A Little Cloud] [2601] before him, paying at the desk and forgetting to take up the odd
[A Little Cloud] [2602] penny of his change, being called back by the cashier, and finally,
[A Little Cloud] [2603] striving to hide his blushes as he left the shop by examining the
[A Little Cloud] [2604] parcel to see if it was securely tied. When he brought the blouse
[A Little Cloud] [2606] when she heard the price she threw the blouse on the table and said
[A Little Cloud] [2609] delighted with it, especially with the make of the sleeves, and
[A Little Cloud] [2614] He looked coldly into the eyes of the photograph and they
[A Little Cloud] [2615] answered coldly. Certainly they were pretty and the face itself was
[A Little Cloud] [2617] unconscious and ladylike? The composure of the eyes irritated
[A Little Cloud] [2621] of passion, of voluptuous longing!... Why had he married the eyes
[A Little Cloud] [2622] in the photograph?
[A Little Cloud] [2624] He caught himself up at the question and glanced nervously round
[A Little Cloud] [2625] the room. He found something mean in the pretty furniture which
[A Little Cloud] [2626] he had bought for his house on the hire system. Annie had chosen
[A Little Cloud] [2630] bravely like Gallaher? Could he go to London? There was the
[A Little Cloud] [2632] it published, that might open the way for him.
[A Little Cloud] [2634] A volume of Byron's poems lay before him on the table. He opened
[A Little Cloud] [2635] it cautiously with his left hand lest he should waken the child and
[A Little Cloud] [2636] began to read the first poem in the book:
[A Little Cloud] [2638] Hushed are the winds and still the evening gloom,
[A Little Cloud] [2640] Not e'en a Zephyr wanders through the grove,
[A Little Cloud] [2646] He paused. He felt the rhythm of the verse about him in the room.
[A Little Cloud] [2647] How melancholy it was! Could he, too, write like that, express the
[A Little Cloud] [2652] The child awoke and began to cry. He turned from the page and
[A Little Cloud] [2655] faster while his eyes began to read the second stanza:
[A Little Cloud] [2661] It was useless. He couldn't read. He couldn't do anything. The
[A Little Cloud] [2662] wailing of the child pierced the drum of his ear. It was useless,
[A Little Cloud] [2664] and suddenly bending to the child's face he shouted:
[A Little Cloud] [2668] The child stopped for an instant, had a spasm of fright and began
[A Little Cloud] [2670] down the room with the child in his arms. It began to sob
[A Little Cloud] [2672] bursting out anew. The thin walls of the room echoed the sound.
[A Little Cloud] [2674] the contracted and quivering face of the child and began to be
[A Little Cloud] [2676] caught the child to his breast in fright. If it died!...
[A Little Cloud] [2678] The door was burst open and a young woman ran in, panting.
[A Little Cloud] [2682] The child, hearing its mother's voice, broke out into a paroxysm of
[A Little Cloud] [2687] She flung her parcels on the floor and snatched the child from him.
[A Little Cloud] [2691] Little Chandler sustained for one moment the gaze of her eyes and
[A Little Cloud] [2692] his heart closed together as he met the hatred in them. He began to
[A Little Cloud] [2698] Giving no heed to him she began to walk up and down the room,
[A Little Cloud] [2699] clasping the child tightly in her arms and murmuring:
[A Little Cloud] [2703] of the world!... There now!"
[A Little Cloud] [2706] back out of the lamplight. He listened while the paroxysm of the
[Counterparts] [2712] THE bell rang furiously and, when Miss Parker went to the tube, a
[Counterparts] [2722] The man muttered "Blast him!" under his breath and pushed back
[Counterparts] [2725] eyebrows and moustache: his eyes bulged forward slightly and the
[Counterparts] [2726] whites of them were dirty. He lifted up the counter and, passing by
[Counterparts] [2727] the clients, went out of the office with a heavy step.
[Counterparts] [2729] He went heavily upstairs until he came to the second landing,
[Counterparts] [2730] where a door bore a brass plate with the inscription Mr. Alleyne.
[Counterparts] [2732] The shrill voice cried:
[Counterparts] [2736] The man entered Mr. Alleyne's room. Simultaneously Mr. Alleyne,
[Counterparts] [2738] shot his head up over a pile of documents. The head itself was so
[Counterparts] [2739] pink and hairless it seemed like a large egg reposing on the papers.
[Counterparts] [2742] "Farrington? What is the meaning of this? Why have I always to
[Counterparts] [2751] another for shirking work. Let me tell you that if the contract is not
[Counterparts] [2752] copied before this evening I'll lay the matter before Mr. Crosbie....
[Counterparts] [2758] well be talking to the wall as talking to you. Understand once for
[Counterparts] [2765] Mr. Alleyne bent his head again upon his pile of papers. The man
[Counterparts] [2766] stared fixedly at the polished skull which directed the affairs of
[Counterparts] [2769] sharp sensation of thirst. The man recognised the sensation and felt
[Counterparts] [2770] that he must have a good night's drinking. The middle of the month
[Counterparts] [2771] was passed and, if he could get the copy done in time, Mr. Alleyne
[Counterparts] [2772] might give him an order on the cashier. He stood still, gazing
[Counterparts] [2773] fixedly at the head upon the pile of papers. Suddenly Mr. Alleyne
[Counterparts] [2774] began to upset all the papers, searching for something. Then, as if
[Counterparts] [2775] he had been unaware of the man's presence till that moment, he
[Counterparts] [2786] The man walked heavily towards the door and, as he went out of
[Counterparts] [2787] the room, he heard Mr. Alleyne cry after him that if the contract
[Counterparts] [2788] was not copied by evening Mr. Crosbie would hear of the matter.
[Counterparts] [2790] He returned to his desk in the lower office and counted the sheets
[Counterparts] [2792] the ink but he continued to stare stupidly at the last words he had
[Counterparts] [2793] written: In no case shall the said Bernard Bodley be... The evening
[Counterparts] [2794] was falling and in a few minutes they would be lighting the gas:
[Counterparts] [2795] then he could write. He felt that he must slake the thirst in his
[Counterparts] [2796] throat. He stood up from his desk and, lifting the counter as before,
[Counterparts] [2797] passed out of the office. As he was passing out the chief clerk
[Counterparts] [2800] "It's all right, Mr. Shelley," said the man, pointing with his finger
[Counterparts] [2801] to indicate the objective of his journey.
[Counterparts] [2803] The chief clerk glanced at the hat-rack, but, seeing the row
[Counterparts] [2804] complete, offered no remark. As soon as he was on the landing the
[Counterparts] [2806] head and ran quickly down the rickety stairs. From the street door
[Counterparts] [2807] he walked on furtively on the inner side of the path towards the
[Counterparts] [2809] the dark snug of O'Neill's shop, and filling up the little window
[Counterparts] [2810] that looked into the bar with his inflamed face, the colour of dark
[Counterparts] [2815] The curate brought him a glass of plain porter. The man drank it at
[Counterparts] [2816] a gulp and asked for a caraway seed. He put his penny on the
[Counterparts] [2817] counter and, leaving the curate to grope for it in the gloom,
[Counterparts] [2818] retreated out of the snug as furtively as he had entered it.
[Counterparts] [2820] Darkness, accompanied by a thick fog, was gaining upon the dusk
[Counterparts] [2821] of February and the lamps in Eustace Street had been lit. The man
[Counterparts] [2822] went up by the houses until he reached the door of the office,
[Counterparts] [2823] wondering whether he could finish his copy in time. On the stairs a
[Counterparts] [2826] cap back again into his pocket and re-entered the office, assuming
[Counterparts] [2829] "Mr. Alleyne has been calling for you," said the chief clerk
[Counterparts] [2832] The man glanced at the two clients who were standing at the
[Counterparts] [2834] answering. As the clients were both male the chief clerk allowed
[Counterparts] [2839] in the Delacour case for Mr. Alleyne."
[Counterparts] [2841] This address in the presence of the public, his run upstairs and the
[Counterparts] [2842] porter he had gulped down so hastily confused the man and, as he
[Counterparts] [2844] hopeless was the task of finishing his copy of the contract before
[Counterparts] [2845] half past five. The dark damp night was coming and he longed to
[Counterparts] [2846] spend it in the bars, drinking with his friends amid the glare of gas
[Counterparts] [2847] and the clatter of glasses. He got out the Delacour correspondence
[Counterparts] [2848] and passed out of the office. He hoped Mr. Alleyne would not
[Counterparts] [2849] discover that the last two letters were missing.
[Counterparts] [2851] The moist pungent perfume lay all the way up to Mr. Alleyne's
[Counterparts] [2854] money. She came to the office often and stayed a long time when
[Counterparts] [2856] perfumes, smoothing the handle of her umbrella and nodding the
[Counterparts] [2859] knee. The man put the correspondence on the desk and bowed
[Counterparts] [2861] notice of his bow. Mr. Alleyne tapped a finger on the
[Counterparts] [2865] The man returned to the lower office and sat down again at his
[Counterparts] [2866] desk. He stared intently at the incomplete phrase: In no case shall
[Counterparts] [2867] the said Bernard Bodley be... and thought how strange it was that
[Counterparts] [2868] the last three words began with the same letter. The chief clerk
[Counterparts] [2869] began to hurry Miss Parker, saying she would never have the
[Counterparts] [2870] letters typed in time for post. The man listened to the clicking of
[Counterparts] [2871] the machine for a few minutes and then set to work to finish his
[Counterparts] [2873] the glare and rattle of the public-house. It was a night for hot
[Counterparts] [2874] punches. He struggled on with his copy, but when the clock struck
[Counterparts] [2881] He felt strong enough to clear out the whole office singlehanded.
[Counterparts] [2883] All the indignities of his life enraged him.... Could he ask the
[Counterparts] [2884] cashier privately for an advance? No, the cashier was no good, no
[Counterparts] [2886] would meet the boys: Leonard and O'Halloran and Nosey Flynn.
[Counterparts] [2887] The barometer of his emotional nature was set for a spell of riot.
[Counterparts] [2891] standing outside the counter and all the clerks had turn round in
[Counterparts] [2892] anticipation of something. The man got up from his desk. Mr.
[Counterparts] [2894] missing. The man answered that he knew nothing about them, that
[Counterparts] [2895] he had made a faithful copy. The tirade continued: it was so bitter
[Counterparts] [2896] and violent that the man could hardly restrain his fist from
[Counterparts] [2897] descending upon the head of the manikin before him:
[Counterparts] [2902] Alleyne. "Tell me," he added, glancing first for approval to the
[Counterparts] [2906] The man glanced from the lady's face to the little egg-shaped head
[Counterparts] [2912] There was a pause in the very breathing of the clerks. Everyone
[Counterparts] [2913] was astounded (the author of the witticism no less than his
[Counterparts] [2915] began to smile broadly. Mr. Alleyne flushed to the hue of a wild
[Counterparts] [2917] fist in the man's face till it seemed to vibrate like the knob of some
[Counterparts] [2922] impertinence or you'll quit the office instanter! You'll quit this, I'm
[Counterparts] [2929] He stood in a doorway opposite the office watching to see if the
[Counterparts] [2930] cashier would come out alone. All the clerks passed out and finally
[Counterparts] [2931] the cashier came out with the chief clerk. It was no use trying to
[Counterparts] [2932] say a word to him when he was with the chief clerk. The man felt
[Counterparts] [2935] what a hornet's nest the office would be for him. He could
[Counterparts] [2936] remember the way in which Mr. Alleyne had hounded little Peake
[Counterparts] [2937] out of the office in order to make room for his own nephew. He
[Counterparts] [2942] they had never pulled together from the first, he and Mr. Alleyne,
[Counterparts] [2943] ever since the day Mr. Alleyne had overheard him mimicking his
[Counterparts] [2945] had been the beginning of it. He might have tried Higgins for the
[Counterparts] [2949] He felt his great body again aching for the comfort of the
[Counterparts] [2950] public-house. The fog had begun to chill him and he wondered
[Counterparts] [2953] somewhere or other: he had spent his last penny for the g.p. and
[Counterparts] [2956] pawn-office in Fleet Street. That was the dart! Why didn't he think
[Counterparts] [2959] He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly,
[Counterparts] [2961] going to have a good night of it. The clerk in Terry Kelly's said A
[Counterparts] [2962] crown! but the consignor held out for six shillings; and in the end
[Counterparts] [2963] the six shillings was allowed him literally. He came out of the
[Counterparts] [2964] pawn-office joyfully, making a little cylinder, of the coins between
[Counterparts] [2965] his thumb and fingers. In Westmoreland Street the footpaths were
[Counterparts] [2967] ragged urchins ran here and there yelling out the names of the
[Counterparts] [2968] evening editions. The man passed through the crowd, looking on
[Counterparts] [2969] the spectacle generally with proud satisfaction and staring
[Counterparts] [2970] masterfully at the office-girls. His head was full of the noises of
[Counterparts] [2971] tram- gongs and swishing trolleys and his nose already sniffed the
[Counterparts] [2972] curling fumes punch. As he walked on he preconsidered the terms
[Counterparts] [2973] in which he would narrate the incident to the boys:
[Counterparts] [2980] and, when he heard the story, he stood Farrington a half-one,
[Counterparts] [2983] came in and the story was repeated to them. O'Halloran stood
[Counterparts] [2984] tailors of malt, hot, all round and told the story of the retort he had
[Counterparts] [2985] made to the chief clerk when he was in Callan's of Fownes's Street;
[Counterparts] [2986] but, as the retort was after the manner of the liberal shepherds in
[Counterparts] [2987] the eclogues, he had to admit that it was not as clever as
[Counterparts] [2988] Farrington's retort. At this Farrington told the boys to polish off
[Counterparts] [2992] Higgins! Of course he had to join in with the others. The men
[Counterparts] [2994] vivacity for the sight of five small hot whiskies was very
[Counterparts] [2995] exhilarating. Everyone roared laughing when he showed the way in
[Counterparts] [2998] please," while Farrington looked at the company out of his heavy
[Counterparts] [3000] from his moustache with the aid of his lower lip.
[Counterparts] [3003] money but neither of the other two seemed to have any; so the
[Counterparts] [3004] whole party left the shop somewhat regretfully. At the corner of
[Counterparts] [3005] Duke Street Higgins and Nosey Flynn bevelled off to the left while
[Counterparts] [3006] the other three turned back towards the city. Rain was drizzling
[Counterparts] [3007] down on the cold streets and, when they reached the Ballast
[Counterparts] [3008] Office, Farrington suggested the Scotch House. The bar was full of
[Counterparts] [3009] men and loud with the noise of tongues and glasses. The three men
[Counterparts] [3010] pushed past the whining matchsellers at the door and formed a
[Counterparts] [3011] little party at the corner of the counter. They began to exchange
[Counterparts] [3013] Weathers who was performing at the Tivoli as an acrobat and
[Counterparts] [3016] had definite notions of what was what, asked the boys would they
[Counterparts] [3017] have an Apollinaris too; but the boys told Tim to make theirs hot.
[Counterparts] [3018] The talk became theatrical. O'Halloran stood a round and then
[Counterparts] [3019] Farrington stood another round, Weathers protesting that the
[Counterparts] [3020] hospitality was too Irish. He promised to get them in behind the
[Counterparts] [3024] the company in token that he understood he was being chaffed.
[Counterparts] [3029] When the Scotch House closed they went round to Mulligan's.
[Counterparts] [3030] They went into the parlour at the back and O'Halloran ordered
[Counterparts] [3037] Weathers saluted them and told the company that they were out of
[Counterparts] [3038] the Tivoli. Farrington's eyes wandered at every moment in the
[Counterparts] [3039] direction of one of the young women. There was something
[Counterparts] [3042] her chin; and she wore bright yellow gloves, reaching to the elbow.
[Counterparts] [3043] Farrington gazed admiringly at the plump arm which she moved
[Counterparts] [3046] The oblique staring expression in them fascinated him. She
[Counterparts] [3047] glanced at him once or twice and, when the party was leaving the
[Counterparts] [3049] London accent. He watched her leave the room in the hope that she
[Counterparts] [3051] want of money and cursed all the rounds he had stood, particularly
[Counterparts] [3052] all the whiskies and Apolinaris which he had stood to Weathers. If
[Counterparts] [3054] that he lost count of the conversation of his friends.
[Counterparts] [3058] to the company and boasting so much that the other two had called
[Counterparts] [3059] on Farrington to uphold the national honour. Farrington pulled up
[Counterparts] [3060] his sleeve accordingly and showed his biceps muscle to the
[Counterparts] [3061] company. The two arms were examined and compared and finally
[Counterparts] [3062] it was agreed to have a trial of strength. The table was cleared and
[Counterparts] [3063] the two men rested their elbows on it, clasping hands. When Paddy
[Counterparts] [3064] Leonard said "Go!" each was to try to bring down the other's hand
[Counterparts] [3065] on to the table. Farrington looked very serious and determined.
[Counterparts] [3067] The trial began. After about thirty seconds Weathers brought his
[Counterparts] [3068] opponent's hand slowly down on to the table. Farrington's dark
[Counterparts] [3072] "You're not to put the weight of your body behind it. Play fair," he
[Counterparts] [3075] "Who's not playing fair?" said the other.
[Counterparts] [3077] "Come on again. The two best out of three."
[Counterparts] [3079] The trial began again. The veins stood out on Farrington's
[Counterparts] [3080] forehead, and the pallor of Weathers' complexion changed to
[Counterparts] [3081] peony. Their hands and arms trembled under the stress. After a
[Counterparts] [3083] on to the table. There was a murmur of applause from the
[Counterparts] [3084] spectators. The curate, who was standing beside the table, nodded
[Counterparts] [3085] his red head towards the victor and said with stupid familiarity:
[Counterparts] [3087] "Ah! that's the knack!"
[Counterparts] [3089] "What the hell do you know about it?" said Farrington fiercely,
[Counterparts] [3090] turning on the man. "What do you put in your gab for?"
[Counterparts] [3092] "Sh, sh!" said O'Halloran, observing the violent expression of
[Counterparts] [3100] A very sullen-faced man stood at the corner of O'Connell Bridge
[Counterparts] [3101] waiting for the little Sandymount tram to take him home. He was
[Counterparts] [3105] himself in the office, pawned his watch, spent all his money; and
[Counterparts] [3107] longed to be back again in the hot reeking public-house. He had
[Counterparts] [3110] the woman in the big hat who had brushed against him and said
[Counterparts] [3114] body along in the shadow of the wall of the barracks. He loathed
[Counterparts] [3115] returning to his home. When he went in by the side- door he found
[Counterparts] [3116] the kitchen empty and the kitchen fire nearly out. He bawled
[Counterparts] [3123] They had five children. A little boy came running down the stairs.
[Counterparts] [3125] "Who is that?" said the man, peering through the darkness.
[Counterparts] [3135] "She's out at the chapel."
[Counterparts] [3141] "Light the lamp. What do you mean by having the place in
[Counterparts] [3142] darkness? Are the other children in bed?"
[Counterparts] [3144] The man sat down heavily on one of the chairs while the little boy
[Counterparts] [3145] lit the lamp. He began to mimic his son's flat accent, saying half to
[Counterparts] [3146] himself: "At the chapel. At the chapel, if you please!" When the
[Counterparts] [3147] lamp was lit he banged his fist on the table and shouted:
[Counterparts] [3151] "I'm going... to cook it, pa," said the little boy.
[Counterparts] [3153] The man jumped up furiously and pointed to the fire.
[Counterparts] [3155] "On that fire! You let the fire out! By God, I'll teach you to do that
[Counterparts] [3158] He took a step to the door and seized the walking-stick which was
[Counterparts] [3161] "I'll teach you to let the fire out!" he said, rolling up his sleeve in
[Counterparts] [3164] The little boy cried "O, pa!" and ran whimpering round the table,
[Counterparts] [3165] but the man followed him and caught him by the coat. The little
[Counterparts] [3169] "Now, you'll let the fire out the next time!" said the man striking at
[Counterparts] [3170] him vigorously with the stick. "Take that, you little whelp!"
[Counterparts] [3172] The boy uttered a squeal of pain as the stick cut his thigh. He
[Counterparts] [3173] clasped his hands together in the air and his voice shook with
[Clay] [3182] THE matron had given her leave to go out as soon as the women's
[Clay] [3183] tea was over and Maria looked forward to her evening out. The
[Clay] [3184] kitchen was spick and span: the cook said you could see yourself
[Clay] [3185] in the big copper boilers. The fire was nice and bright and on one
[Clay] [3186] of the side-tables were four very big barmbracks. These
[Clay] [3194] always sent for when the women quarrelled Over their tubs and
[Clay] [3195] always succeeded in making peace. One day the matron had said to
[Clay] [3200] And the sub-matron and two of the Board ladies had heard the
[Clay] [3202] wouldn't do to the dummy who had charge of the irons if it wasn't
[Clay] [3205] The women would have their tea at six o'clock and she would be
[Clay] [3206] able to get away before seven. From Ballsbridge to the Pillar,
[Clay] [3207] twenty minutes; from the Pillar to Drumcondra, twenty minutes;
[Clay] [3208] and twenty minutes to buy the things. She would be there before
[Clay] [3209] eight. She took out her purse with the silver clasps and read again
[Clay] [3210] the words A Present from Belfast. She was very fond of that purse
[Clay] [3212] Alphy had gone to Belfast on a Whit-Monday trip. In the purse
[Clay] [3215] would have, all the children singing! Only she hoped that Joe
[Clay] [3220] have felt herself in the way (though Joe's wife was ever so nice
[Clay] [3221] with her) and she had become accustomed to the life of the
[Clay] [3227] After the break-up at home the boys had got her that position in the
[Clay] [3231] people to live with. Then she had her plants in the conservatory
[Clay] [3234] gave the visitor one or two slips from her conservatory. There was
[Clay] [3235] one thing she didn't like and that was the tracts on the walks; but
[Clay] [3236] the matron was such a nice person to deal with, so genteel.
[Clay] [3238] When the cook told her everything was ready she went into the
[Clay] [3239] women's room and began to pull the big bell. In a few minutes the
[Clay] [3241] steaming hands in their petticoats and pulling down the sleeves of
[Clay] [3243] before their huge mugs which the cook and the dummy filled up
[Clay] [3245] Maria superintended the distribution of the barmbrack and saw
[Clay] [3247] laughing and joking during the meal. Lizzie Fleming said Maria
[Clay] [3248] was sure to get the ring and, though Fleming had said that for so
[Clay] [3251] sparkled with disappointed shyness and the tip of her nose nearly
[Clay] [3252] met the tip of her chin. Then Ginger Mooney lifted her mug of tea
[Clay] [3253] and proposed Maria's health while all the other women clattered
[Clay] [3254] with their mugs on the table, and said she was sorry she hadn't a
[Clay] [3255] sup of porter to drink it in. And Maria laughed again till the tip of
[Clay] [3256] her nose nearly met the tip of her chin and till her minute body
[Clay] [3258] well though, of course, she had the notions of a common woman.
[Clay] [3260] But wasn't Maria glad when the women had finished their tea and
[Clay] [3261] the cook and the dummy had begun to clear away the tea- things!
[Clay] [3262] She went into her little bedroom and, remembering that the next
[Clay] [3263] morning was a mass morning, changed the hand of the alarm from
[Clay] [3265] house-boots and laid her best skirt out on the bed and her tiny
[Clay] [3266] dress-boots beside the foot of the bed. She changed her blouse too
[Clay] [3267] and, as she stood before the mirror, she thought of how she used to
[Clay] [3269] she looked with quaint affection at the diminutive body which she
[Clay] [3273] When she got outside the streets were shining with rain and she
[Clay] [3274] was glad of her old brown waterproof. The tram was full and she
[Clay] [3275] had to sit on the little stool at the end of the car, facing all the
[Clay] [3276] people, with her toes barely touching the floor. She arranged in her
[Clay] [3282] they were boys together they used to be the best of friends: but
[Clay] [3285] She got out of her tram at the Pillar and ferreted her way quickly
[Clay] [3286] among the crowds. She went into Downes's cake-shop but the shop
[Clay] [3289] at last came out of the shop laden with a big bag. Then she thought
[Clay] [3295] Henry Street. Here she was a long time in suiting herself and the
[Clay] [3296] stylish young lady behind the counter, who was evidently a little
[Clay] [3298] That made Maria blush and smile at the young lady; but the young
[Clay] [3304] She thought she would have to stand in the Drumcondra tram
[Clay] [3305] because none of the young men seemed to notice her but an elderly
[Clay] [3309] she reflected how much more polite he was than the young men
[Clay] [3310] who simply stared straight before them. The gentleman began to
[Clay] [3311] chat with her about Hallow Eve and the rainy weather. He
[Clay] [3312] supposed the bag was full of good things for the little ones and
[Clay] [3313] said it was only right that the youngsters should enjoy themselves
[Clay] [3316] she was getting out at the Canal Bridge she thanked him and
[Clay] [3318] agreeably, and while she was going up along the terrace, bending
[Clay] [3319] her tiny head under the rain, she thought how easy it was to know a
[Clay] [3323] Joe was there, having come home from business, and all the
[Clay] [3325] from next door and games were going on. Maria gave the bag of
[Clay] [3326] cakes to the eldest boy, Alphy, to divide and Mrs. Donnelly said it
[Clay] [3328] the children say:
[Clay] [3334] look for her plumcake. She tried in Downes's bag and then in the
[Clay] [3335] pockets of her waterproof and then on the hallstand but nowhere
[Clay] [3336] could she find it. Then she asked all the children had any of them
[Clay] [3337] eaten it--by mistake, of course--but the children all said no and
[Clay] [3339] accused of stealing. Everybody had a solution for the mystery and
[Clay] [3341] the tram. Maria, remembering how confused the gentleman with
[Clay] [3342] the greyish moustache had made her, coloured with shame and
[Clay] [3343] vexation and disappointment. At the thought of the failure of her
[Clay] [3344] little surprise and of the two and fourpence she had thrown away
[Clay] [3347] But Joe said it didn't matter and made her sit down by the fire. He
[Clay] [3349] repeating for her a smart answer which he had made to the
[Clay] [3351] the answer he had made but she said that the manager must have
[Clay] [3354] long as you didn't rub him the wrong way. Mrs. Donnelly played
[Clay] [3355] the piano for the children and they danced and sang. Then the two
[Clay] [3356] next-door girls handed round the nuts. Nobody could find the
[Clay] [3361] Donnelly said there was port wine too in the house if she would
[Clay] [3365] So Maria let him have his way and they sat by the fire talking over
[Clay] [3369] she had mentioned the matter. Mrs. Donnelly told her husband it
[Clay] [3372] nearly being a row on the head of it. But Joe said he would not
[Clay] [3373] lose his temper on account of the night it was and asked his wife to
[Clay] [3374] open some more stout. The two next-door girls had arranged some
[Clay] [3376] was delighted to see the children so merry and Joe and his wife in
[Clay] [3377] such good spirits. The next-door girls put some saucers on the
[Clay] [3378] table and then led the children up to the table, blindfold. One got
[Clay] [3379] the prayer-book and the other three got the water; and when one of
[Clay] [3380] the next-door girls got the ring Mrs. Donnelly shook her finger at
[Clay] [3381] the blushing girl as much as to say: 0, I know all about it! They
[Clay] [3382] insisted then on blindfolding Maria and leading her up to the table
[Clay] [3383] to see what she would get; and, while they were putting on the
[Clay] [3384] bandage, Maria laughed and laughed again till the tip of her nose
[Clay] [3385] nearly met the tip of her chin.
[Clay] [3387] They led her up to the table amid laughing and joking and she put
[Clay] [3388] her hand out in the air as she was told to do. She moved her hand
[Clay] [3389] about here and there in the air and descended on one of the
[Clay] [3393] whispering. Somebody said something about the garden, and at
[Clay] [3394] last Mrs. Donnelly said something very cross to one of the
[Clay] [3397] to do it over again: and this time she got the prayer-book.
[Clay] [3399] After that Mrs. Donnelly played Miss McCloud's Reel for the
[Clay] [3402] convent before the year was out because she had got the
[Clay] [3407] At last the children grew tired and sleepy and Joe asked Maria
[Clay] [3408] would she not sing some little song before she went, one of the old
[Clay] [3410] to get up and stand beside the piano. Mrs. Donnelly bade the
[Clay] [3411] children be quiet and listen to Maria's song. Then she played the
[Clay] [3414] Dwelt, and when she came to the second verse she sang again:
[Clay] [3420] That I was the hope and the pride.
[Clay] [3425] That you loved me still the same.
[Clay] [3430] like the long ago and no music for him like poor old Balfe,
[Clay] [3432] with tears that he could not find what he was looking for and in the
[Clay] [3433] end he had to ask his wife to tell him where the corkscrew was.
[A Painful Case] [3438] live as far as possible from the city of which he was a citizen and
[A Painful Case] [3439] because he found all the other suburbs of Dublin mean, modern
[A Painful Case] [3441]