Ulysses by James Joyce

Leopold Bloom Telemachus
Scylla and Charybdis
Wandering Rocks
Oxen of the Sun

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Ulysses by James Joyce.
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[2435]         -- II --
[2438]     Mr Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He
[2439]     liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart,
[2440]     liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods' roes. Most of all he
[2441]     liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of
[2442]     faintly scented urine.
[2444]     Kidneys were in his mind as he moved about the kitchen softly, righting
[2445]     her breakfast things on the humpy tray. Gelid light and air were in the
[2446]     kitchen but out of doors gentle summer morning everywhere. Made him feel
[2447]     a bit peckish.
[2449]     The coals were reddening.
[2451]     Another slice of bread and butter: three, four: right. She didn't like
[2452]     her plate full. Right. He turned from the tray, lifted the kettle off the
[2453]     hob and set it sideways on the fire. It sat there, dull and squat, its
[2454]     spout stuck out. Cup of tea soon. Good. Mouth dry. The cat walked stiffly
[2455]     round a leg of the table with tail on high.
[2457]     --Mkgnao!
[2459]     --O, there you are, Mr Bloom said, turning from the fire.
[2461]     The cat mewed in answer and stalked again stiffly round a leg of the
[2462]     table, mewing. Just how she stalks over my writingtable. Prr. Scratch my
[2463]     head. Prr.
[2465]     Mr Bloom watched curiously, kindly the lithe black form. Clean to see:
[2466]     the gloss of her sleek hide, the white button under the butt of her tail,
[2467]     the green flashing eyes. He bent down to her, his hands on his knees.
[2469]     --Milk for the pussens, he said.
[2471]     --Mrkgnao! the cat cried.
[2473]     They call them stupid. They understand what we say better than we
[2474]     understand them. She understands all she wants to. Vindictive too. Cruel.
[2475]     Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it. Wonder what I
[2476]     look like to her. Height of a tower? No, she can jump me.
[2478]     --Afraid of the chickens she is, he said mockingly. Afraid of the
[2479]     chookchooks. I never saw such a stupid pussens as the pussens.
[2481]     Cruel. Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it.
[2483]     --Mrkrgnao! the cat said loudly.
[2485]     She blinked up out of her avid shameclosing eyes, mewing plaintively and
[2486]     long, showing him her milkwhite teeth. He watched the dark eyeslits
[2487]     narrowing with greed till her eyes were green stones. Then he went to the
[2488]     dresser, took the jug Hanlon's milkman had just filled for him, poured
[2489]     warmbubbled milk on a saucer and set it slowly on the floor.
[2491]     --Gurrhr! she cried, running to lap.
[2493]     He watched the bristles shining wirily in the weak light as she tipped
[2494]     three times and licked lightly. Wonder is it true if you clip them they
[2495]     can't mouse after. Why? They shine in the dark, perhaps, the tips. Or
[2496]     kind of feelers in the dark, perhaps.
[2498]     He listened to her licking lap. Ham and eggs, no. No good eggs with this
[2499]     drouth. Want pure fresh water. Thursday: not a good day either for a
[2500]     mutton kidney at Buckley's. Fried with butter, a shake of pepper. Better
[2501]     a pork kidney at Dlugacz's. While the kettle is boiling. She lapped
[2502]     slower, then licking the saucer clean. Why are their tongues so rough? To
[2503]     lap better, all porous holes. Nothing she can eat? He glanced round him.
[2504]     No.
[2506]     On quietly creaky boots he went up the staircase to the hall, paused by
[2507]     the bedroom door. She might like something tasty. Thin bread and butter
[2508]     she likes in the morning. Still perhaps: once in a way.
[2510]     He said softly in the bare hall:
[2512]     --I'm going round the corner. Be back in a minute.
[2514]     And when he had heard his voice say it he added:
[2516]     --You don't want anything for breakfast?
[2518]     A sleepy soft grunt answered:
[2520]     --Mn.
[2522]     No. She didn't want anything. He heard then a warm heavy sigh, softer, as
[2523]     she turned over and the loose brass quoits of the bedstead jingled. Must
[2524]     get those settled really. Pity. All the way from Gibraltar. Forgotten any
[2525]     little Spanish she knew. Wonder what her father gave for it. Old style.
[2526]     Ah yes! of course. Bought it at the governor's auction. Got a short
[2527]     knock. Hard as nails at a bargain, old Tweedy. Yes, sir. At Plevna that
[2528]     was. I rose from the ranks, sir, and I'm proud of it. Still he had brains
[2529]     enough to make that corner in stamps. Now that was farseeing.
[2531]     His hand took his hat from the peg over his initialled heavy overcoat and
[2532]     his lost property office secondhand waterproof. Stamps: stickyback
[2533]     pictures. Daresay lots of officers are in the swim too. Course they do.
[2534]     The sweated legend in the crown of his hat told him mutely: Plasto's high
[2535]     grade ha. He peeped quickly inside the leather headband. White slip of
[2536]     paper. Quite safe.
[2538]     On the doorstep he felt in his hip pocket for the latchkey. Not there. In
[2539]     the trousers I left off. Must get it. Potato I have. Creaky wardrobe. No
[2540]     use disturbing her. She turned over sleepily that time. He pulled the
[2541]     halldoor to after him very quietly, more, till the footleaf dropped
[2542]     gently over the threshold, a limp lid. Looked shut. All right till I come
[2543]     back anyhow.
[2545]     He crossed to the bright side, avoiding the loose cellarflap of number
[2546]     seventyfive. The sun was nearing the steeple of George's church. Be a
[2547]     warm day I fancy. Specially in these black clothes feel it more. Black
[2548]     conducts, reflects, (refracts is it?), the heat. But I couldn't go in
[2549]     that light suit. Make a picnic of it. His eyelids sank quietly often as
[2550]     he walked in happy warmth. Boland's breadvan delivering with trays our
[2551]     daily but she prefers yesterday's loaves turnovers crisp crowns hot.
[2552]     Makes you feel young. Somewhere in the east: early morning: set off at
[2553]     dawn. Travel round in front of the sun, steal a day's march on him. Keep
[2554]     it up for ever never grow a day older technically. Walk along a strand,
[2555]     strange land, come to a city gate, sentry there, old ranker too, old
[2556]     Tweedy's big moustaches, leaning on a long kind of a spear. Wander
[2557]     through awned streets. Turbaned faces going by. Dark caves of carpet
[2558]     shops, big man, Turko the terrible, seated crosslegged, smoking a coiled
[2559]     pipe. Cries of sellers in the streets. Drink water scented with fennel,
[2560]     sherbet. Dander along all day. Might meet a robber or two. Well, meet
[2561]     him. Getting on to sundown. The shadows of the mosques among the pillars:
[2562]     priest with a scroll rolled up. A shiver of the trees, signal, the
[2563]     evening wind. I pass on. Fading gold sky. A mother watches me from her
[2564]     doorway. She calls her children home in their dark language. High wall:
[2565]     beyond strings twanged. Night sky, moon, violet, colour of Molly's new
[2566]     garters. Strings. Listen. A girl playing one of those instruments what do
[2567]     you call them: dulcimers. I pass.
[2569]     Probably not a bit like it really. Kind of stuff you read: in the track
[2570]     of the sun. Sunburst on the titlepage. He smiled, pleasing himself. What
[2571]     Arthur Griffith said about the headpiece over the FREEMAN leader: a
[2572]     homerule sun rising up in the northwest from the laneway behind the bank
[2573]     of Ireland. He prolonged his pleased smile. Ikey touch that: homerule sun
[2574]     rising up in the north-west.
[2576]     He approached Larry O'Rourke's. From the cellar grating floated up the
[2577]     flabby gush of porter. Through the open doorway the bar squirted out
[2578]     whiffs of ginger, teadust, biscuitmush. Good house, however: just the end
[2579]     of the city traffic. For instance M'Auley's down there: n. g. as
[2580]     position. Of course if they ran a tramline along the North Circular from
[2581]     the cattlemarket to the quays value would go up like a shot.
[2583]     Baldhead over the blind. Cute old codger. No use canvassing him for an
[2584]     ad. Still he knows his own business best. There he is, sure enough, my
[2585]     bold Larry, leaning against the sugarbin in his shirtsleeves watching the
[2586]     aproned curate swab up with mop and bucket. Simon Dedalus takes him off
[2587]     to a tee with his eyes screwed up. Do you know what I'm going to tell
[2588]     you? What's that, Mr O'Rourke? Do you know what? The Russians, they'd
[2589]     only be an eight o'clock breakfast for the Japanese.
[2591]     Stop and say a word: about the funeral perhaps. Sad thing about poor
[2592]     Dignam, Mr O'Rourke.
[2594]     Turning into Dorset street he said freshly in greeting through the
[2595]     doorway:
[2597]     --Good day, Mr O'Rourke.
[2599]     --Good day to you.
[2601]     --Lovely weather, sir.
[2603]     --'Tis all that.
[2605]     Where do they get the money? Coming up redheaded curates from the county
[2606]     Leitrim, rinsing empties and old man in the cellar. Then, lo and behold,
[2607]     they blossom out as Adam Findlaters or Dan Tallons. Then thin of the
[2608]     competition. General thirst. Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without
[2609]     passing a pub. Save it they can't. Off the drunks perhaps. Put down three
[2610]     and carry five. What is that, a bob here and there, dribs and drabs. On
[2611]     the wholesale orders perhaps. Doing a double shuffle with the town
[2612]     travellers. Square it you with the boss and we'll split the job, see?
[2614]     How much would that tot to off the porter in the month? Say ten barrels
[2615]     of stuff. Say he got ten per cent off. O more. Fifteen. He passed Saint
[2616]     Joseph's National school. Brats' clamour. Windows open. Fresh air helps
[2617]     memory. Or a lilt. Ahbeesee defeegee kelomen opeecue rustyouvee
[2618]     doubleyou. Boys are they? Yes. Inishturk. Inishark. Inishboffin. At their
[2619]     joggerfry. Mine. Slieve Bloom.
[2621]     He halted before Dlugacz's window, staring at the hanks of sausages,
[2622]     polonies, black and white. Fifteen multiplied by. The figures whitened in
[2623]     his mind, unsolved: displeased, he let them fade. The shiny links, packed
[2624]     with forcemeat, fed his gaze and he breathed in tranquilly the lukewarm
[2625]     breath of cooked spicy pigs' blood.
[2627]     A kidney oozed bloodgouts on the willowpatterned dish: the last. He stood
[2628]     by the nextdoor girl at the counter. Would she buy it too, calling the
[2629]     items from a slip in her hand? Chapped: washingsoda. And a pound and a
[2630]     half of Denny's sausages. His eyes rested on her vigorous hips. Woods his
[2631]     name is. Wonder what he does. Wife is oldish. New blood. No followers
[2632]     allowed. Strong pair of arms. Whacking a carpet on the clothesline. She
[2633]     does whack it, by George. The way her crooked skirt swings at each whack.
[2635]     The ferreteyed porkbutcher folded the sausages he had snipped off with
[2636]     blotchy fingers, sausagepink. Sound meat there: like a stallfed heifer.
[2638]     He took a page up from the pile of cut sheets: the model farm at
[2639]     Kinnereth on the lakeshore of Tiberias. Can become ideal winter
[2640]     sanatorium. Moses Montefiore. I thought he was. Farmhouse, wall round it,
[2641]     blurred cattle cropping. He held the page from him: interesting: read it
[2642]     nearer, the title, the blurred cropping cattle, the page rustling. A
[2643]     young white heifer. Those mornings in the cattlemarket, the beasts lowing
[2644]     in their pens, branded sheep, flop and fall of dung, the breeders in
[2645]     hobnailed boots trudging through the litter, slapping a palm on a
[2646]     ripemeated hindquarter, there's a prime one, unpeeled switches in their
[2647]     hands. He held the page aslant patiently, bending his senses and his
[2648]     will, his soft subject gaze at rest. The crooked skirt swinging, whack by
[2649]     whack by whack.
[2651]     The porkbutcher snapped two sheets from the pile, wrapped up her prime
[2652]     sausages and made a red grimace.
[2654]     --Now, my miss, he said.
[2656]     She tendered a coin, smiling boldly, holding her thick wrist out.
[2658]     --Thank you, my miss. And one shilling threepence change. For you,
[2659]     please?
[2661]     Mr Bloom pointed quickly. To catch up and walk behind her if she went
[2662]     slowly, behind her moving hams. Pleasant to see first thing in the
[2663]     morning. Hurry up, damn it. Make hay while the sun shines. She stood
[2664]     outside the shop in sunlight and sauntered lazily to the right. He sighed
[2665]     down his nose: they never understand. Sodachapped hands. Crusted toenails
[2666]     too. Brown scapulars in tatters, defending her both ways. The sting of
[2667]     disregard glowed to weak pleasure within his breast. For another: a
[2668]     constable off duty cuddling her in Eccles lane. They like them sizeable.
[2669]     Prime sausage. O please, Mr Policeman, I'm lost in the wood.
[2671]     --Threepence, please.
[2673]     His hand accepted the moist tender gland and slid it into a sidepocket.
[2674]     Then it fetched up three coins from his trousers' pocket and laid them on
[2675]     the rubber prickles. They lay, were read quickly and quickly slid, disc
[2676]     by disc, into the till.
[2678]     --Thank you, sir. Another time.
[2680]     A speck of eager fire from foxeyes thanked him. He withdrew his gaze
[2681]     after an instant. No: better not: another time.
[2683]     --Good morning, he said, moving away.
[2685]     --Good morning, sir.
[2687]     No sign. Gone. What matter?
[2689]     He walked back along Dorset street, reading gravely. Agendath Netaim:
[2690]     planters' company. To purchase waste sandy tracts from Turkish government
[2691]     and plant with eucalyptus trees. Excellent for shade, fuel and
[2692]     construction. Orangegroves and immense melonfields north of Jaffa. You
[2693]     pay eighty marks and they plant a dunam of land for you with olives,
[2694]     oranges, almonds or citrons. Olives cheaper: oranges need artificial
[2695]     irrigation. Every year you get a sending of the crop. Your name entered
[2696]     for life as owner in the book of the union. Can pay ten down and the
[2697]     balance in yearly instalments. Bleibtreustrasse 34, Berlin, W. 15.
[2699]     Nothing doing. Still an idea behind it.
[2701]     He looked at the cattle, blurred in silver heat. Silverpowdered
[2702]     olivetrees. Quiet long days: pruning, ripening. Olives are packed in
[2703]     jars, eh? I have a few left from Andrews. Molly spitting them out. Knows
[2704]     the taste of them now. Oranges in tissue paper packed in crates. Citrons
[2705]     too. Wonder is poor Citron still in Saint Kevin's parade. And Mastiansky
[2706]     with the old cither. Pleasant evenings we had then. Molly in Citron's
[2707]     basketchair. Nice to hold, cool waxen fruit, hold in the hand, lift it to
[2708]     the nostrils and smell the perfume. Like that, heavy, sweet, wild
[2709]     perfume. Always the same, year after year. They fetched high prices too,
[2710]     Moisel told me. Arbutus place: Pleasants street: pleasant old times. Must
[2711]     be without a flaw, he said. Coming all that way: Spain, Gibraltar,
[2712]     Mediterranean, the Levant. Crates lined up on the quayside at Jaffa, chap
[2713]     ticking them off in a book, navvies handling them barefoot in soiled
[2714]     dungarees. There's whatdoyoucallhim out of. How do you? Doesn't see. Chap
[2715]     you know just to salute bit of a bore. His back is like that Norwegian
[2716]     captain's. Wonder if I'll meet him today. Watering cart. To provoke the
[2717]     rain. On earth as it is in heaven.
[2719]     A cloud began to cover the sun slowly, wholly. Grey. Far.
[2721]     No, not like that. A barren land, bare waste. Vulcanic lake, the dead
[2722]     sea: no fish, weedless, sunk deep in the earth. No wind could lift those
[2723]     waves, grey metal, poisonous foggy waters. Brimstone they called it
[2724]     raining down: the cities of the plain: Sodom, Gomorrah, Edom. All dead
[2725]     names. A dead sea in a dead land, grey and old. Old now. It bore the
[2726]     oldest, the first race. A bent hag crossed from Cassidy's, clutching a
[2727]     naggin bottle by the neck. The oldest people. Wandered far away over all
[2728]     the earth, captivity to captivity, multiplying, dying, being born
[2729]     everywhere. It lay there now. Now it could bear no more. Dead: an old
[2730]     woman's: the grey sunken cunt of the world.
[2732]     Desolation.
[2734]     Grey horror seared his flesh. Folding the page into his pocket he turned
[2735]     into Eccles street, hurrying homeward. Cold oils slid along his veins,
[2736]     chilling his blood: age crusting him with a salt cloak. Well, I am here
[2737]     now. Yes, I am here now. Morning mouth bad images. Got up wrong side of
[2738]     the bed. Must begin again those Sandow's exercises. On the hands down.
[2739]     Blotchy brown brick houses. Number eighty still unlet. Why is that?
[2740]     Valuation is only twenty-eight. Towers, Battersby, North, MacArthur:
[2741]     parlour windows plastered with bills. Plasters on a sore eye. To smell
[2742]     the gentle smoke of tea, fume of the pan, sizzling butter. Be near her
[2743]     ample bedwarmed flesh. Yes, yes.
[2745]     Quick warm sunlight came running from Berkeley road, swiftly, in slim
[2746]     sandals, along the brightening footpath. Runs, she runs to meet me, a
[2747]     girl with gold hair on the wind.
[2749]     Two letters and a card lay on the hallfloor. He stooped and gathered
[2750]     them. Mrs Marion Bloom. His quickened heart slowed at once. Bold hand.
[2751]     Mrs Marion.
[2753]     --Poldy!
[2755]     Entering the bedroom he halfclosed his eyes and walked through warm
[2756]     yellow twilight towards her tousled head.
[2758]     --Who are the letters for?
[2760]     He looked at them. Mullingar. Milly.
[2762]     --A letter for me from Milly, he said carefully, and a card to you. And a
[2763]     letter for you.
[2765]     He laid her card and letter on the twill bedspread near the curve of her
[2766]     knees.
[2768]     --Do you want the blind up?
[2770]     Letting the blind up by gentle tugs halfway his backward eye saw her
[2771]     glance at the letter and tuck it under her pillow.
[2773]     --That do? he asked, turning.
[2775]     She was reading the card, propped on her elbow.
[2777]     --She got the things, she said.
[2779]     He waited till she had laid the card aside and curled herself back slowly
[2780]     with a snug sigh.
[2782]     --Hurry up with that tea, she said. I'm parched.
[2784]     --The kettle is boiling, he said.
[2786]     But he delayed to clear the chair: her striped petticoat, tossed soiled
[2787]     linen: and lifted all in an armful on to the foot of the bed.
[2789]     As he went down the kitchen stairs she called:
[2791]     --Poldy!
[2793]     --What?
[2795]     --Scald the teapot.
[2797]     On the boil sure enough: a plume of steam from the spout. He scalded and
[2798]     rinsed out the teapot and put in four full spoons of tea, tilting the
[2799]     kettle then to let the water flow in. Having set it to draw he took off
[2800]     the kettle, crushed the pan flat on the live coals and watched the lump
[2801]     of butter slide and melt. While he unwrapped the kidney the cat mewed
[2802]     hungrily against him. Give her too much meat she won't mouse. Say they
[2803]     won't eat pork. Kosher. Here. He let the bloodsmeared paper fall to her
[2804]     and dropped the kidney amid the sizzling butter sauce. Pepper. He
[2805]     sprinkled it through his fingers ringwise from the chipped eggcup.
[2807]     Then he slit open his letter, glancing down the page and over. Thanks:
[2808]     new tam: Mr Coghlan: lough Owel picnic: young student: Blazes Boylan's
[2809]     seaside girls.
[2811]     The tea was drawn. He filled his own moustachecup, sham crown
[2813]     Derby, smiling. Silly Milly's birthday gift. Only five she was then. No,
[2814]     wait: four. I gave her the amberoid necklace she broke. Putting pieces of
[2815]     folded brown paper in the letterbox for her. He smiled, pouring.
[2824]     Poor old professor Goodwin. Dreadful old case. Still he was a courteous
[2825]     old chap. Oldfashioned way he used to bow Molly off the platform. And the
[2826]     little mirror in his silk hat. The night Milly brought it into the
[2827]     parlour. O, look what I found in professor Goodwin's hat! All we laughed.
[2828]     Sex breaking out even then. Pert little piece she was.
[2830]     He prodded a fork into the kidney and slapped it over: then fitted the
[2831]     teapot on the tray. Its hump bumped as he took it up. Everything on it?
[2832]     Bread and butter, four, sugar, spoon, her cream. Yes. He carried it
[2833]     upstairs, his thumb hooked in the teapot handle.
[2835]     Nudging the door open with his knee he carried the tray in and set it on
[2836]     the chair by the bedhead.
[2838]     --What a time you were! she said.
[2840]     She set the brasses jingling as she raised herself briskly, an elbow on
[2841]     the pillow. He looked calmly down on her bulk and between her large soft
[2842]     bubs, sloping within her nightdress like a shegoat's udder. The warmth of
[2843]     her couched body rose on the air, mingling with the fragrance of the tea
[2844]     she poured.
[2846]     A strip of torn envelope peeped from under the dimpled pillow. In the act
[2847]     of going he stayed to straighten the bedspread.
[2849]     --Who was the letter from? he asked.
[2851]     Bold hand. Marion.
[2853]     --O, Boylan, she said. He's bringing the programme.
[2855]     --What are you singing?
[2857]     --LA CI DAREM with J. C. Doyle, she said, and LOVE'S OLD SWEET SONG.
[2859]     Her full lips, drinking, smiled. Rather stale smell that incense leaves
[2860]     next day. Like foul flowerwater.
[2862]     --Would you like the window open a little?
[2864]     She doubled a slice of bread into her mouth, asking:
[2866]     --What time is the funeral?
[2868]     --Eleven, I think, he answered. I didn't see the paper.
[2870]     Following the pointing of her finger he took up a leg of her soiled
[2871]     drawers from the bed. No? Then, a twisted grey garter looped round a
[2872]     stocking: rumpled, shiny sole.
[2874]     --No: that book.
[2876]     Other stocking. Her petticoat.
[2878]     --It must have fell down, she said.
[2880]     He felt here and there. VOGLIO E NON VORREI. Wonder if she pronounces
[2881]     that right: VOGLIO. Not in the bed. Must have slid down. He stooped and
[2882]     lifted the valance. The book, fallen, sprawled against the bulge of the
[2883]     orangekeyed chamberpot.
[2885]     --Show here, she said. I put a mark in it. There's a word I wanted to ask
[2886]     you.
[2888]     She swallowed a draught of tea from her cup held by nothandle and, having
[2889]     wiped her fingertips smartly on the blanket, began to search the text
[2890]     with the hairpin till she reached the word.
[2892]     --Met him what? he asked.
[2894]     --Here, she said. What does that mean?
[2896]     He leaned downward and read near her polished thumbnail.
[2898]     --Metempsychosis?
[2900]     --Yes. Who's he when he's at home?
[2902]     --Metempsychosis, he said, frowning. It's Greek: from the Greek. That
[2903]     means the transmigration of souls.
[2905]     --O, rocks! she said. Tell us in plain words.
[2907]     He smiled, glancing askance at her mocking eyes. The same young eyes. The
[2908]     first night after the charades. Dolphin's Barn. He turned over the
[2909]     smudged pages. RUBY: THE PRIDE OF THE RING. Hello. Illustration. Fierce
[2910]     Italian with carriagewhip. Must be Ruby pride of the on the floor naked.
[2912]     HIM WITH AN OATH. Cruelty behind it all. Doped animals. Trapeze at
[2913]     Hengler's. Had to look the other way. Mob gaping. Break your neck and
[2914]     we'll break our sides. Families of them. Bone them young so they
[2915]     metamspychosis. That we live after death. Our souls. That a man's soul
[2916]     after he dies. Dignam's soul ...
[2918]     --Did you finish it? he asked.
[2920]     --Yes, she said. There's nothing smutty in it. Is she in love with the
[2921]     first fellow all the time?
[2923]     --Never read it. Do you want another?
[2925]     --Yes. Get another of Paul de Kock's. Nice name he has.
[2927]     She poured more tea into her cup, watching it flow sideways.
[2929]     Must get that Capel street library book renewed or they'll write to
[2930]     Kearney, my guarantor. Reincarnation: that's the word.
[2932]     --Some people believe, he said, that we go on living in another body
[2933]     after death, that we lived before. They call it reincarnation. That we
[2934]     all lived before on the earth thousands of years ago or some other
[2935]     planet. They say we have forgotten it. Some say they remember their past
[2936]     lives.
[2938]     The sluggish cream wound curdling spirals through her tea. Bette remind
[2939]     her of the word: metempsychosis. An example would be better. An example?
[2941]     The BATH OF THE NYMPH over the bed. Given away with the Easter number of
[2942]     PHOTO BITS: Splendid masterpiece in art colours. Tea before you put milk
[2943]     in. Not unlike her with her hair down: slimmer. Three and six I gave for
[2944]     the frame. She said it would look nice over the bed. Naked nymphs:
[2945]     Greece: and for instance all the people that lived then.
[2947]     He turned the pages back.
[2949]     --Metempsychosis, he said, is what the ancient Greeks called it. They
[2950]     used to believe you could be changed into an animal or a tree, for
[2951]     instance. What they called nymphs, for example.
[2953]     Her spoon ceased to stir up the sugar. She gazed straight before her,
[2954]     inhaling through her arched nostrils.
[2956]     --There's a smell of burn, she said. Did you leave anything on the fire?
[2958]     --The kidney! he cried suddenly.
[2960]     He fitted the book roughly into his inner pocket and, stubbing his toes
[2961]     against the broken commode, hurried out towards the smell, stepping
[2962]     hastily down the stairs with a flurried stork's legs. Pungent smoke shot
[2963]     up in an angry jet from a side of the pan. By prodding a prong of the
[2964]     fork under the kidney he detached it and turned it turtle on its back.
[2965]     Only a little burnt. He tossed it off the pan on to a plate and let the
[2966]     scanty brown gravy trickle over it.
[2968]     Cup of tea now. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of the loaf. He
[2969]     shore away the burnt flesh and flung it to the cat. Then he put a forkful
[2970]     into his mouth, chewing with discernment the toothsome pliant meat. Done
[2971]     to a turn. A mouthful of tea. Then he cut away dies of bread, sopped one
[2972]     in the gravy and put it in his mouth. What was that about some young
[2973]     student and a picnic? He creased out the letter at his side, reading it
[2974]     slowly as he chewed, sopping another die of bread in the gravy and
[2975]     raising it to his mouth.
[2978]         Dearest Papli
[2980]     Thanks ever so much for the lovely birthday present. It suits me
[2981]     splendid. Everyone says I am quite the belle in my new tam. I got mummy's
[2982]     Iovely box of creams and am writing. They are lovely. I am getting on
[2983]     swimming in the photo business now. Mr Coghlan took one of me and Mrs.
[2984]     Will send when developed. We did great biz yesterday. Fair day and all
[2985]     the beef to the heels were in. We are going to lough Owel on Monday with
[2986]     a few friends to make a scrap picnic. Give my love to mummy and to
[2987]     yourself a big kiss and thanks. I hear them at the piano downstairs.
[2988]     There is to be a concert in the Greville Arms on Saturday. There is a
[2989]     young student comes here some evenings named Bannon his cousins or
[2990]     something are big swells and he sings Boylan's (I was on the pop of
[2991]     writing Blazes Boylan's) song about those seaside girls. Tell him silly
[2992]     Milly sends my best respects. I must now close with fondest love
[2995]     Your fond daughter, MILLY.
[2998]     P. S. Excuse bad writing am in hurry. Byby. M.
[3001]     Fifteen yesterday. Curious, fifteenth of the month too. Her first
[3002]     birthday away from home. Separation. Remember the summer morning she was
[3003]     born, running to knock up Mrs Thornton in Denzille street. Jolly old
[3004]     woman. Lot of babies she must have helped into the world. She knew from
[3005]     the first poor little Rudy wouldn't live. Well, God is good, sir. She
[3006]     knew at once. He would be eleven now if he had lived.
[3008]     His vacant face stared pityingly at the postscript. Excuse bad writing.
[3009]     Hurry. Piano downstairs. Coming out of her shell. Row with her in the XL
[3010]     Cafe about the bracelet. Wouldn't eat her cakes or speak or look.
[3011]     Saucebox. He sopped other dies of bread in the gravy and ate piece after
[3012]     piece of kidney. Twelve and six a week. Not much. Still, she might do
[3013]     worse. Music hall stage. Young student. He drank a draught of cooler tea
[3014]     to wash down his meal. Then he read the letter again: twice.
[3016]     O, well: she knows how to mind herself. But if not? No, nothing has
[3017]     happened. Of course it might. Wait in any case till it does. A wild piece
[3018]     of goods. Her slim legs running up the staircase. Destiny. Ripening now.
[3020]     Vain: very.
[3022]     He smiled with troubled affection at the kitchen window. Day I caught her
[3023]     in the street pinching her cheeks to make them red. Anemic a little. Was
[3024]     given milk too long. On the ERIN'S KING that day round the Kish. Damned
[3025]     old tub pitching about. Not a bit funky. Her pale blue scarf loose in the
[3026]     wind with her hair.
[3033]     Seaside girls. Torn envelope. Hands stuck in his trousers' pockets,
[3034]     jarvey off for the day, singing. Friend of the family. Swurls, he says.
[3035]     Pier with lamps, summer evening, band,
[3038]         THOSE GIRLS, THOSE GIRLS,
[3042]     Milly too. Young kisses: the first. Far away now past. Mrs Marion.
[3043]     Reading, lying back now, counting the strands of her hair, smiling,
[3044]     braiding.
[3046]     A soft qualm, regret, flowed down his backbone, increasing. Will happen,
[3047]     yes. Prevent. Useless: can't move. Girl's sweet light lips. Will happen
[3048]     too. He felt the flowing qualm spread over him. Useless to move now. Lips
[3049]     kissed, kissing, kissed. Full gluey woman's lips.
[3051]     Better where she is down there: away. Occupy her. Wanted a dog to pass
[3052]     the time. Might take a trip down there. August bank holiday, only two and
[3053]     six return. Six weeks off, however. Might work a press pass. Or through
[3054]     M'Coy.
[3056]     The cat, having cleaned all her fur, returned to the meatstained paper,
[3057]     nosed at it and stalked to the door. She looked back at him, mewing.
[3058]     Wants to go out. Wait before a door sometime it will open. Let her wait.
[3059]     Has the fidgets. Electric. Thunder in the air. Was washing at her ear
[3060]     with her back to the fire too.
[3062]     He felt heavy, full: then a gentle loosening of his bowels. He stood up,
[3063]     undoing the waistband of his trousers. The cat mewed to him.
[3065]     --Miaow! he said in answer. Wait till I'm ready.
[3067]     Heaviness: hot day coming. Too much trouble to fag up the stairs to the
[3068]     landing.
[3070]     A paper. He liked to read at stool. Hope no ape comes knocking just as
[3071]     I'm.
[3073]     In the tabledrawer he found an old number of TITBITS. He folded it under
[3074]     his armpit, went to the door and opened it. The cat went up in soft
[3075]     bounds. Ah, wanted to go upstairs, curl up in a ball on the bed.
[3077]     Listening, he heard her voice:
[3079]     --Come, come, pussy. Come.
[3081]     He went out through the backdoor into the garden: stood to listen towards
[3082]     the next garden. No sound. Perhaps hanging clothes out to dry. The maid
[3083]     was in the garden. Fine morning.
[3085]     He bent down to regard a lean file of spearmint growing by the wall. Make
[3086]     a summerhouse here. Scarlet runners. Virginia creepers. Want to manure
[3087]     the whole place over, scabby soil. A coat of liver of sulphur. All soil
[3088]     like that without dung. Household slops. Loam, what is this that is? The
[3089]     hens in the next garden: their droppings are very good top dressing. Best
[3090]     of all though are the cattle, especially when they are fed on those
[3091]     oilcakes. Mulch of dung. Best thing to clean ladies' kid gloves. Dirty
[3092]     cleans. Ashes too. Reclaim the whole place. Grow peas in that corner
[3093]     there. Lettuce. Always have fresh greens then. Still gardens have their
[3094]     drawbacks. That bee or bluebottle here Whitmonday.
[3096]     He walked on. Where is my hat, by the way? Must have put it back on the
[3097]     peg. Or hanging up on the floor. Funny I don't remember that. Hallstand
[3098]     too full. Four umbrellas, her raincloak. Picking up the letters. Drago's
[3099]     shopbell ringing. Queer I was just thinking that moment. Brown
[3100]     brillantined hair over his collar. Just had a wash and brushup. Wonder
[3101]     have I time for a bath this morning. Tara street. Chap in the paybox
[3102]     there got away James Stephens, they say. O'Brien.
[3104]     Deep voice that fellow Dlugacz has. Agendath what is it? Now, my miss.
[3105]     Enthusiast.
[3107]     He kicked open the crazy door of the jakes. Better be careful not to get
[3108]     these trousers dirty for the funeral. He went in, bowing his head under
[3109]     the low lintel. Leaving the door ajar, amid the stench of mouldy limewash
[3110]     and stale cobwebs he undid his braces. Before sitting down he peered
[3111]     through a chink up at the nextdoor windows. The king was in his
[3112]     countinghouse. Nobody.
[3114]     Asquat on the cuckstool he folded out his paper, turning its pages over
[3115]     on his bared knees. Something new and easy. No great hurry. Keep it a
[3116]     bit. Our prize titbit: MATCHAM'S MASTERSTROKE. Written by Mr Philip
[3117]     Beaufoy, Playgoers' Club, London. Payment at the rate of one guinea a
[3118]     column has been made to the writer. Three and a half. Three pounds three.
[3119]     Three pounds, thirteen and six.
[3121]     Quietly he read, restraining himself, the first column and, yielding but
[3122]     resisting, began the second. Midway, his last resistance yielding, he
[3123]     allowed his bowels to ease themselves quietly as he read, reading still
[3124]     patiently that slight constipation of yesterday quite gone. Hope it's not
[3125]     too big bring on piles again. No, just right. So. Ah! Costive. One
[3126]     tabloid of cascara sagrada. Life might be so. It did not move or touch
[3127]     him but it was something quick and neat. Print anything now. Silly
[3128]     season. He read on, seated calm above his own rising smell. Neat
[3130]     LAUGHING WITCH WHO NOW. Begins and ends morally. HAND IN HAND. Smart. He
[3131]     glanced back through what he had read and, while feeling his water flow
[3132]     quietly, he envied kindly Mr Beaufoy who had written it and received
[3133]     payment of three pounds, thirteen and six.
[3135]     Might manage a sketch. By Mr and Mrs L. M. Bloom. Invent a story for some
[3136]     proverb. Which? Time I used to try jotting down on my cuff what she said
[3137]     dressing. Dislike dressing together. Nicked myself shaving. Biting her
[3138]     nether lip, hooking the placket of her skirt. Timing her. 9.l5. Did
[3139]     Roberts pay you yet? 9.20. What had Gretta Conroy on? 9.23. What
[3140]     possessed me to buy this comb? 9.24. I'm swelled after that cabbage. A
[3141]     speck of dust on the patent leather of her boot.
[3143]     Rubbing smartly in turn each welt against her stockinged calf. Morning
[3144]     after the bazaar dance when May's band played Ponchielli's dance of the
[3145]     hours. Explain that: morning hours, noon, then evening coming on, then
[3146]     night hours. Washing her teeth. That was the first night. Her head
[3147]     dancing. Her fansticks clicking. Is that Boylan well off? He has money.
[3148]     Why? I noticed he had a good rich smell off his breath dancing. No use
[3149]     humming then. Allude to it. Strange kind of music that last night. The
[3150]     mirror was in shadow. She rubbed her handglass briskly on her woollen
[3151]     vest against her full wagging bub. Peering into it. Lines in her eyes. It
[3152]     wouldn't pan out somehow.
[3154]     Evening hours, girls in grey gauze. Night hours then: black with daggers
[3155]     and eyemasks. Poetical idea: pink, then golden, then grey, then black.
[3156]     Still, true to life also. Day: then the night.
[3158]     He tore away half the prize story sharply and wiped himself with it. Then
[3159]     he girded up his trousers, braced and buttoned himself. He pulled back
[3160]     the jerky shaky door of the jakes and came forth from the gloom into the
[3161]     air.
[3163]     In the bright light, lightened and cooled in limb, he eyed carefully his
[3164]     black trousers: the ends, the knees, the houghs of the knees. What time
[3165]     is the funeral? Better find out in the paper.
[3167]     A creak and a dark whirr in the air high up. The bells of George's
[3168]     church. They tolled the hour: loud dark iron.
[3171]         HEIGHO! HEIGHO!
[3172]         HEIGHO! HEIGHO!
[3173]         HEIGHO! HEIGHO!
[3176]     Quarter to. There again: the overtone following through the air, a third.
[3178]     Poor Dignam!