Dubliners
by
James Joyce
Counterparts
The SistersAn 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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[2711]
[2712] THE bell rang furiously and, when Miss Parker went to the tube, a
[2713] furious voice called out in a piercing North of Ireland accent:
[2714]
[2715] "Send Farrington here!"
[2716]
[2717] Miss Parker returned to her machine, saying to a man who was
[2718] writing at a desk:
[2719]
[2720] "Mr. Alleyne wants you upstairs."
[2721]
[2722] The man muttered "Blast him!" under his breath and pushed back
[2723] his chair to stand up. When he stood up he was tall and of great
[2724] bulk. He had a hanging face, dark wine-coloured, with fair
[2725] eyebrows and moustache: his eyes bulged forward slightly and the
[2726] whites of them were dirty. He lifted up the counter and, passing by
[2727] the clients, went out of the office with a heavy step.
[2728]
[2729] He went heavily upstairs until he came to the second landing,
[2730] where a door bore a brass plate with the inscription Mr. Alleyne.
[2731] Here he halted, puffing with labour and vexation, and knocked.
[2732] The shrill voice cried:
[2733]
[2734] "Come in!"
[2735]
[2736] The man entered Mr. Alleyne's room. Simultaneously Mr. Alleyne,
[2737] a little man wearing gold-rimmed glasses on a cleanshaven face,
[2738] shot his head up over a pile of documents. The head itself was so
[2739] pink and hairless it seemed like a large egg reposing on the papers.
[2740] Mr. Alleyne did not lose a moment:
[2741]
[2742] "Farrington? What is the meaning of this? Why have I always to
[2743] complain of you? May I ask you why you haven't made a copy of
[2744] that contract between Bodley and Kirwan? I told you it must be
[2745] ready by four o'clock."
[2746]
[2747] "But Mr. Shelley said, sir----"
[2748]
[2749] "Mr. Shelley said, sir .... Kindly attend to what I say and not to
[2750] what Mr. Shelley says, sir. You have always some excuse or
[2751] another for shirking work. Let me tell you that if the contract is not
[2752] copied before this evening I'll lay the matter before Mr. Crosbie....
[2753] Do you hear me now?"
[2754]
[2755] "Yes, sir."
[2756]
[2757] "Do you hear me now?... Ay and another little matter! I might as
[2758] well be talking to the wall as talking to you. Understand once for
[2759] all that you get a half an hour for your lunch and not an hour and a
[2760] half. How many courses do you want, I'd like to know.... Do you
[2761] mind me now?"
[2762]
[2763] "Yes, sir."
[2764]
[2765] Mr. Alleyne bent his head again upon his pile of papers. The man
[2766] stared fixedly at the polished skull which directed the affairs of
[2767] Crosbie & Alleyne, gauging its fragility. A spasm of rage gripped
[2768] his throat for a few moments and then passed, leaving after it a
[2769] sharp sensation of thirst. The man recognised the sensation and felt
[2770] that he must have a good night's drinking. The middle of the month
[2771] was passed and, if he could get the copy done in time, Mr. Alleyne
[2772] might give him an order on the cashier. He stood still, gazing
[2773] fixedly at the head upon the pile of papers. Suddenly Mr. Alleyne
[2774] began to upset all the papers, searching for something. Then, as if
[2775] he had been unaware of the man's presence till that moment, he
[2776] shot up his head again, saying:
[2777]
[2778] "Eh? Are you going to stand there all day? Upon my word,
[2779] Farrington, you take things easy!"
[2780]
[2781] "I was waiting to see..."
[2782]
[2783] "Very good, you needn't wait to see. Go downstairs and do your
[2784] work."
[2785]
[2786] The man walked heavily towards the door and, as he went out of
[2787] the room, he heard Mr. Alleyne cry after him that if the contract
[2788] was not copied by evening Mr. Crosbie would hear of the matter.
[2789]
[2790] He returned to his desk in the lower office and counted the sheets
[2791] which remained to be copied. He took up his pen and dipped it in
[2792] the ink but he continued to stare stupidly at the last words he had
[2793] written: In no case shall the said Bernard Bodley be... The evening
[2794] was falling and in a few minutes they would be lighting the gas:
[2795] then he could write. He felt that he must slake the thirst in his
[2796] throat. He stood up from his desk and, lifting the counter as before,
[2797] passed out of the office. As he was passing out the chief clerk
[2798] looked at him inquiringly.
[2799]
[2800] "It's all right, Mr. Shelley," said the man, pointing with his finger
[2801] to indicate the objective of his journey.
[2802]
[2803] The chief clerk glanced at the hat-rack, but, seeing the row
[2804] complete, offered no remark. As soon as he was on the landing the
[2805] man pulled a shepherd's plaid cap out of his pocket, put it on his
[2806] head and ran quickly down the rickety stairs. From the street door
[2807] he walked on furtively on the inner side of the path towards the
[2808] corner and all at once dived into a doorway. He was now safe in
[2809] the dark snug of O'Neill's shop, and filling up the little window
[2810] that looked into the bar with his inflamed face, the colour of dark
[2811] wine or dark meat, he called out:
[2812]
[2813] "Here, Pat, give us a g.p.. like a good fellow."
[2814]
[2815] The curate brought him a glass of plain porter. The man drank it at
[2816] a gulp and asked for a caraway seed. He put his penny on the
[2817] counter and, leaving the curate to grope for it in the gloom,
[2818] retreated out of the snug as furtively as he had entered it.
[2819]
[2820] Darkness, accompanied by a thick fog, was gaining upon the dusk
[2821] of February and the lamps in Eustace Street had been lit. The man
[2822] went up by the houses until he reached the door of the office,
[2823] wondering whether he could finish his copy in time. On the stairs a
[2824] moist pungent odour of perfumes saluted his nose: evidently Miss
[2825] Delacour had come while he was out in O'Neill's. He crammed his
[2826] cap back again into his pocket and re-entered the office, assuming
[2827] an air of absentmindedness.
[2828]
[2829] "Mr. Alleyne has been calling for you," said the chief clerk
[2830] severely. "Where were you?"
[2831]
[2832] The man glanced at the two clients who were standing at the
[2833] counter as if to intimate that their presence prevented him from
[2834] answering. As the clients were both male the chief clerk allowed
[2835] himself a laugh.
[2836]
[2837] "I know that game," he said. "Five times in one day is a little bit...
[2838] Well, you better look sharp and get a copy of our correspondence
[2839] in the Delacour case for Mr. Alleyne."
[2840]
[2841] This address in the presence of the public, his run upstairs and the
[2842] porter he had gulped down so hastily confused the man and, as he
[2843] sat down at his desk to get what was required, he realised how
[2844] hopeless was the task of finishing his copy of the contract before
[2845] half past five. The dark damp night was coming and he longed to
[2846] spend it in the bars, drinking with his friends amid the glare of gas
[2847] and the clatter of glasses. He got out the Delacour correspondence
[2848] and passed out of the office. He hoped Mr. Alleyne would not
[2849] discover that the last two letters were missing.
[2850]
[2851] The moist pungent perfume lay all the way up to Mr. Alleyne's
[2852] room. Miss Delacour was a middle-aged woman of Jewish
[2853] appearance. Mr. Alleyne was said to be sweet on her or on her
[2854] money. She came to the office often and stayed a long time when
[2855] she came. She was sitting beside his desk now in an aroma of
[2856] perfumes, smoothing the handle of her umbrella and nodding the
[2857] great black feather in her hat. Mr. Alleyne had swivelled his chair
[2858] round to face her and thrown his right foot jauntily upon his left
[2859] knee. The man put the correspondence on the desk and bowed
[2860] respectfully but neither Mr. Alleyne nor Miss Delacour took any
[2861] notice of his bow. Mr. Alleyne tapped a finger on the
[2862] correspondence and then flicked it towards him as if to say: "That's
[2863] all right: you can go."
[2864]
[2865] The man returned to the lower office and sat down again at his
[2866] desk. He stared intently at the incomplete phrase: In no case shall
[2867] the said Bernard Bodley be... and thought how strange it was that
[2868] the last three words began with the same letter. The chief clerk
[2869] began to hurry Miss Parker, saying she would never have the
[2870] letters typed in time for post. The man listened to the clicking of
[2871] the machine for a few minutes and then set to work to finish his
[2872] copy. But his head was not clear and his mind wandered away to
[2873] the glare and rattle of the public-house. It was a night for hot
[2874] punches. He struggled on with his copy, but when the clock struck
[2875] five he had still fourteen pages to write. Blast it! He couldn't finish
[2876] it in time. He longed to execrate aloud, to bring his fist down on
[2877] something violently. He was so enraged that he wrote Bernard
[2878] Bernard instead of Bernard Bodley and had to begin again on a
[2879] clean sheet.
[2880]
[2881] He felt strong enough to clear out the whole office singlehanded.
[2882] His body ached to do something, to rush out and revel in violence.
[2883] All the indignities of his life enraged him.... Could he ask the
[2884] cashier privately for an advance? No, the cashier was no good, no
[2885] damn good: he wouldn't give an advance.... He knew where he
[2886] would meet the boys: Leonard and O'Halloran and Nosey Flynn.
[2887] The barometer of his emotional nature was set for a spell of riot.
[2888]
[2889] His imagination had so abstracted him that his name was called
[2890] twice before he answered. Mr. Alleyne and Miss Delacour were
[2891] standing outside the counter and all the clerks had turn round in
[2892] anticipation of something. The man got up from his desk. Mr.
[2893] Alleyne began a tirade of abuse, saying that two letters were
[2894] missing. The man answered that he knew nothing about them, that
[2895] he had made a faithful copy. The tirade continued: it was so bitter
[2896] and violent that the man could hardly restrain his fist from
[2897] descending upon the head of the manikin before him:
[2898]
[2899] "I know nothing about any other two letters," he said stupidly.
[2900]
[2901] "You--know--nothing. Of course you know nothing," said Mr.
[2902] Alleyne. "Tell me," he added, glancing first for approval to the
[2903] lady beside him, "do you take me for a fool? Do you think me an
[2904] utter fool?"
[2905]
[2906] The man glanced from the lady's face to the little egg-shaped head
[2907] and back again; and, almost before he was aware of it, his tongue
[2908] had found a felicitous moment:
[2909]
[2910] "I don't think, sir," he said, "that that's a fair question to put to me."
[2911]
[2912] There was a pause in the very breathing of the clerks. Everyone
[2913] was astounded (the author of the witticism no less than his
[2914] neighbours) and Miss Delacour, who was a stout amiable person,
[2915] began to smile broadly. Mr. Alleyne flushed to the hue of a wild
[2916] rose and his mouth twitched with a dwarf s passion. He shook his
[2917] fist in the man's face till it seemed to vibrate like the knob of some
[2918] electric machine:
[2919]
[2920] "You impertinent ruffian! You impertinent ruffian! I'll make short
[2921] work of you! Wait till you see! You'll apologise to me for your
[2922] impertinence or you'll quit the office instanter! You'll quit this, I'm
[2923] telling you, or you'll apologise to me!"
[2924]
[2925]
[2926]
[2927]
[2928]
[2929] He stood in a doorway opposite the office watching to see if the
[2930] cashier would come out alone. All the clerks passed out and finally
[2931] the cashier came out with the chief clerk. It was no use trying to
[2932] say a word to him when he was with the chief clerk. The man felt
[2933] that his position was bad enough. He had been obliged to offer an
[2934] abject apology to Mr. Alleyne for his impertinence but he knew
[2935] what a hornet's nest the office would be for him. He could
[2936] remember the way in which Mr. Alleyne had hounded little Peake
[2937] out of the office in order to make room for his own nephew. He
[2938] felt savage and thirsty and revengeful, annoyed with himself and
[2939] with everyone else. Mr. Alleyne would never give him an hour's
[2940] rest; his life would be a hell to him. He had made a proper fool of
[2941] himself this time. Could he not keep his tongue in his cheek? But
[2942] they had never pulled together from the first, he and Mr. Alleyne,
[2943] ever since the day Mr. Alleyne had overheard him mimicking his
[2944] North of Ireland accent to amuse Higgins and Miss Parker: that
[2945] had been the beginning of it. He might have tried Higgins for the
[2946] money, but sure Higgins never had anything for himself. A man
[2947] with two establishments to keep up, of course he couldn't....
[2948]
[2949] He felt his great body again aching for the comfort of the
[2950] public-house. The fog had begun to chill him and he wondered
[2951] could he touch Pat in O'Neill's. He could not touch him for more
[2952] than a bob--and a bob was no use. Yet he must get money
[2953] somewhere or other: he had spent his last penny for the g.p. and
[2954] soon it would be too late for getting money anywhere. Suddenly,
[2955] as he was fingering his watch-chain, he thought of Terry Kelly's
[2956] pawn-office in Fleet Street. That was the dart! Why didn't he think
[2957] of it sooner?
[2958]
[2959] He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly,
[2960] muttering to himself that they could all go to hell because he was
[2961] going to have a good night of it. The clerk in Terry Kelly's said A
[2962] crown! but the consignor held out for six shillings; and in the end
[2963] the six shillings was allowed him literally. He came out of the
[2964] pawn-office joyfully, making a little cylinder, of the coins between
[2965] his thumb and fingers. In Westmoreland Street the footpaths were
[2966] crowded with young men and women returning from business and
[2967] ragged urchins ran here and there yelling out the names of the
[2968] evening editions. The man passed through the crowd, looking on
[2969] the spectacle generally with proud satisfaction and staring
[2970] masterfully at the office-girls. His head was full of the noises of
[2971] tram- gongs and swishing trolleys and his nose already sniffed the
[2972] curling fumes punch. As he walked on he preconsidered the terms
[2973] in which he would narrate the incident to the boys:
[2974]
[2975] "So, I just looked at him--coolly, you know, and looked at her.
[2976] Then I looked back at him again--taking my time, you know. 'I
[2977] don't think that that's a fair question to put to me,' says I."
[2978]
[2979] Nosey Flynn was sitting up in his usual corner of Davy Byrne's
[2980] and, when he heard the story, he stood Farrington a half-one,
[2981] saying it was as smart a thing as ever he heard. Farrington stood a
[2982] drink in his turn. After a while O'Halloran and Paddy Leonard
[2983] came in and the story was repeated to them. O'Halloran stood
[2984] tailors of malt, hot, all round and told the story of the retort he had
[2985] made to the chief clerk when he was in Callan's of Fownes's Street;
[2986] but, as the retort was after the manner of the liberal shepherds in
[2987] the eclogues, he had to admit that it was not as clever as
[2988] Farrington's retort. At this Farrington told the boys to polish off
[2989] that and have another.
[2990]
[2991] Just as they were naming their poisons who should come in but
[2992] Higgins! Of course he had to join in with the others. The men
[2993] asked him to give his version of it, and he did so with great
[2994] vivacity for the sight of five small hot whiskies was very
[2995] exhilarating. Everyone roared laughing when he showed the way in
[2996] which Mr. Alleyne shook his fist in Farrington's face. Then he
[2997] imitated Farrington, saying, "And here was my nabs, as cool as you
[2998] please," while Farrington looked at the company out of his heavy
[2999] dirty eyes, smiling and at times drawing forth stray drops of liquor
[3000] from his moustache with the aid of his lower lip.
[3001]
[3002] When that round was over there was a pause. O'Halloran had
[3003] money but neither of the other two seemed to have any; so the
[3004] whole party left the shop somewhat regretfully. At the corner of
[3005] Duke Street Higgins and Nosey Flynn bevelled off to the left while
[3006] the other three turned back towards the city. Rain was drizzling
[3007] down on the cold streets and, when they reached the Ballast
[3008] Office, Farrington suggested the Scotch House. The bar was full of
[3009] men and loud with the noise of tongues and glasses. The three men
[3010] pushed past the whining matchsellers at the door and formed a
[3011] little party at the corner of the counter. They began to exchange
[3012] stories. Leonard introduced them to a young fellow named
[3013] Weathers who was performing at the Tivoli as an acrobat and
[3014] knockabout artiste. Farrington stood a drink all round. Weathers
[3015] said he would take a small Irish and Apollinaris. Farrington, who
[3016] had definite notions of what was what, asked the boys would they
[3017] have an Apollinaris too; but the boys told Tim to make theirs hot.
[3018] The talk became theatrical. O'Halloran stood a round and then
[3019] Farrington stood another round, Weathers protesting that the
[3020] hospitality was too Irish. He promised to get them in behind the
[3021] scenes and introduce them to some nice girls. O'Halloran said that
[3022] he and Leonard would go, but that Farrington wouldn't go because
[3023] he was a married man; and Farrington's heavy dirty eyes leered at
[3024] the company in token that he understood he was being chaffed.
[3025] Weathers made them all have just one little tincture at his expense
[3026] and promised to meet them later on at Mulligan's in Poolbeg
[3027] Street.
[3028]
[3029] When the Scotch House closed they went round to Mulligan's.
[3030] They went into the parlour at the back and O'Halloran ordered
[3031] small hot specials all round. They were all beginning to feel
[3032] mellow. Farrington was just standing another round when
[3033] Weathers came back. Much to Farrington's relief he drank a glass
[3034] of bitter this time. Funds were getting low but they had enough to
[3035] keep them going. Presently two young women with big hats and a
[3036] young man in a check suit came in and sat at a table close by.
[3037] Weathers saluted them and told the company that they were out of
[3038] the Tivoli. Farrington's eyes wandered at every moment in the
[3039] direction of one of the young women. There was something
[3040] striking in her appearance. An immense scarf of peacock-blue
[3041] muslin was wound round her hat and knotted in a great bow under
[3042] her chin; and she wore bright yellow gloves, reaching to the elbow.
[3043] Farrington gazed admiringly at the plump arm which she moved
[3044] very often and with much grace; and when, after a little time, she
[3045] answered his gaze he admired still more her large dark brown eyes.
[3046] The oblique staring expression in them fascinated him. She
[3047] glanced at him once or twice and, when the party was leaving the
[3048] room, she brushed against his chair and said "O, pardon!" in a
[3049] London accent. He watched her leave the room in the hope that she
[3050] would look back at him, but he was disappointed. He cursed his
[3051] want of money and cursed all the rounds he had stood, particularly
[3052] all the whiskies and Apolinaris which he had stood to Weathers. If
[3053] there was one thing that he hated it was a sponge. He was so angry
[3054] that he lost count of the conversation of his friends.
[3055]
[3056] When Paddy Leonard called him he found that they were talking
[3057] about feats of strength. Weathers was showing his biceps muscle
[3058] to the company and boasting so much that the other two had called
[3059] on Farrington to uphold the national honour. Farrington pulled up
[3060] his sleeve accordingly and showed his biceps muscle to the
[3061] company. The two arms were examined and compared and finally
[3062] it was agreed to have a trial of strength. The table was cleared and
[3063] the two men rested their elbows on it, clasping hands. When Paddy
[3064] Leonard said "Go!" each was to try to bring down the other's hand
[3065] on to the table. Farrington looked very serious and determined.
[3066]
[3067] The trial began. After about thirty seconds Weathers brought his
[3068] opponent's hand slowly down on to the table. Farrington's dark
[3069] wine-coloured face flushed darker still with anger and humiliation
[3070] at having been defeated by such a stripling.
[3071]
[3072] "You're not to put the weight of your body behind it. Play fair," he
[3073] said.
[3074]
[3075] "Who's not playing fair?" said the other.
[3076]
[3077] "Come on again. The two best out of three."
[3078]
[3079] The trial began again. The veins stood out on Farrington's
[3080] forehead, and the pallor of Weathers' complexion changed to
[3081] peony. Their hands and arms trembled under the stress. After a
[3082] long struggle Weathers again brought his opponent's hand slowly
[3083] on to the table. There was a murmur of applause from the
[3084] spectators. The curate, who was standing beside the table, nodded
[3085] his red head towards the victor and said with stupid familiarity:
[3086]
[3087] "Ah! that's the knack!"
[3088]
[3089] "What the hell do you know about it?" said Farrington fiercely,
[3090] turning on the man. "What do you put in your gab for?"
[3091]
[3092] "Sh, sh!" said O'Halloran, observing the violent expression of
[3093] Farrington's face. "Pony up, boys. We'll have just one little smahan
[3094] more and then we'll be off."
[3095]
[3096]
[3097]
[3098]
[3099]
[3100] A very sullen-faced man stood at the corner of O'Connell Bridge
[3101] waiting for the little Sandymount tram to take him home. He was
[3102] full of smouldering anger and revengefulness. He felt humiliated
[3103] and discontented; he did not even feel drunk; and he had only
[3104] twopence in his pocket. He cursed everything. He had done for
[3105] himself in the office, pawned his watch, spent all his money; and
[3106] he had not even got drunk. He began to feel thirsty again and he
[3107] longed to be back again in the hot reeking public-house. He had
[3108] lost his reputation as a strong man, having been defeated twice by
[3109] a mere boy. His heart swelled with fury and, when he thought of
[3110] the woman in the big hat who had brushed against him and said
[3111] Pardon! his fury nearly choked him.
[3112]
[3113] His tram let him down at Shelbourne Road and he steered his great
[3114] body along in the shadow of the wall of the barracks. He loathed
[3115] returning to his home. When he went in by the side- door he found
[3116] the kitchen empty and the kitchen fire nearly out. He bawled
[3117] upstairs:
[3118]
[3119] "Ada! Ada!"
[3120]
[3121] His wife was a little sharp-faced woman who bullied her husband
[3122] when he was sober and was bullied by him when he was drunk.
[3123] They had five children. A little boy came running down the stairs.
[3124]
[3125] "Who is that?" said the man, peering through the darkness.
[3126]
[3127] "Me, pa."
[3128]
[3129] "Who are you? Charlie?"
[3130]
[3131] "No, pa. Tom."
[3132]
[3133] "Where's your mother?"
[3134]
[3135] "She's out at the chapel."
[3136]
[3137] "That's right.... Did she think of leaving any dinner for me?"
[3138]
[3139] "Yes, pa. I --"
[3140]
[3141] "Light the lamp. What do you mean by having the place in
[3142] darkness? Are the other children in bed?"
[3143]
[3144] The man sat down heavily on one of the chairs while the little boy
[3145] lit the lamp. He began to mimic his son's flat accent, saying half to
[3146] himself: "At the chapel. At the chapel, if you please!" When the
[3147] lamp was lit he banged his fist on the table and shouted:
[3148]
[3149] "What's for my dinner?"
[3150]
[3151] "I'm going... to cook it, pa," said the little boy.
[3152]
[3153] The man jumped up furiously and pointed to the fire.
[3154]
[3155] "On that fire! You let the fire out! By God, I'll teach you to do that
[3156] again!"
[3157]
[3158] He took a step to the door and seized the walking-stick which was
[3159] standing behind it.
[3160]
[3161] "I'll teach you to let the fire out!" he said, rolling up his sleeve in
[3162] order to give his arm free play.
[3163]
[3164] The little boy cried "O, pa!" and ran whimpering round the table,
[3165] but the man followed him and caught him by the coat. The little
[3166] boy looked about him wildly but, seeing no way of escape, fell
[3167] upon his knees.
[3168]
[3169] "Now, you'll let the fire out the next time!" said the man striking at
[3170] him vigorously with the stick. "Take that, you little whelp!"
[3171]
[3172] The boy uttered a squeal of pain as the stick cut his thigh. He
[3173] clasped his hands together in the air and his voice shook with
[3174] fright.
[3175]
[3176] "O, pa!" he cried. "Don't beat me, pa! And I'll... I'll say a Hail Mary
[3177] for you.... I'll say a Hail Mary for you, pa, if you don't beat me....
[3178] I'll say a Hail Mary...."
[3179]