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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 230/821
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—
Ah
,
gelong
with
your
great
times
coming
.
Barmaids
too
.
Tobaccoshopgirls
.
James
Stephens
’
idea
was
the
best
.
He
knew
them
.
Circles
of
ten
so
that
a
fellow
couldn
’
t
round
on
more
than
his
own
ring
.
Sinn
Fein
.
Back
out
you
get
the
knife
.
Hidden
hand
.
Stay
in
.
The
firing
squad
.
Turnkey
’
s
daughter
got
him
out
of
Richmond
,
off
from
Lusk
.
Putting
up
in
the
Buckingham
Palace
hotel
under
their
very
noses
.
Garibaldi
.
You
must
have
a
certain
fascination
:
Parnell
.
Arthur
Griffith
is
a
squareheaded
fellow
but
he
has
no
go
in
him
for
the
mob
.
Or
gas
about
our
lovely
land
.
Gammon
and
spinach
.
Dublin
Bakery
Company
’
s
tearoom
.
Debating
societies
.
That
republicanism
is
the
best
form
of
government
.
That
the
language
question
should
take
precedence
of
the
economic
question
.
Have
your
daughters
inveigling
them
to
your
house
.
Stuff
them
up
with
meat
and
drink
.
Michaelmas
goose
.
Here
’
s
a
good
lump
of
thyme
seasoning
under
the
apron
for
you
.
Have
another
quart
of
goosegrease
before
it
gets
too
cold
.
Halffed
enthusiasts
.
Penny
roll
and
a
walk
with
the
band
.
No
grace
for
the
carver
.
The
thought
that
the
other
chap
pays
best
sauce
in
the
world
.
Make
themselves
thoroughly
at
home
.
Show
us
over
those
apricots
,
meaning
peaches
.
The
not
far
distant
day
.
Homerule
sun
rising
up
in
the
northwest
.
His
smile
faded
as
he
walked
,
a
heavy
cloud
hiding
the
sun
slowly
,
shadowing
Trinity
’
s
surly
front
.
Trams
passed
one
another
,
ingoing
,
outgoing
,
clanging
.
Useless
words
.
Things
go
on
same
,
day
after
day
:
squads
of
police
marching
out
,
back
:
trams
in
,
out
.
Those
two
loonies
mooching
about
.
Dignam
carted
off
.
Mina
Purefoy
swollen
belly
on
a
bed
groaning
to
have
a
child
tugged
out
of
her
.
One
born
every
second
somewhere
.
Other
dying
every
second
.
Since
I
fed
the
birds
five
minutes
.
Three
hundred
kicked
the
bucket
.
Other
three
hundred
born
,
washing
the
blood
off
,
all
are
washed
in
the
blood
of
the
lamb
,
bawling
maaaaaa
.
Cityful
passing
away
,
other
cityful
coming
,
passing
away
too
:
other
coming
on
,
passing
on
.
Houses
,
lines
of
houses
,
streets
,
miles
of
pavements
,
piledup
bricks
,
stones
.
Changing
hands
.
This
owner
,
that
.
Landlord
never
dies
they
say
.
Other
steps
into
his
shoes
when
he
gets
his
notice
to
quit
.
They
buy
the
place
up
with
gold
and
still
they
have
all
the
gold
.
Swindle
in
it
somewhere
.
Piled
up
in
cities
,
worn
away
age
after
age
.
Pyramids
in
sand
.
Built
on
bread
and
onions
.
Slaves
Chinese
wall
.
Babylon
.
Big
stones
left
.
Round
towers
.
Rest
rubble
,
sprawling
suburbs
,
jerrybuilt
.
Kerwan
’
s
mushroom
houses
built
of
breeze
.
Shelter
,
for
the
night
.
No
-
one
is
anything
.
This
is
the
very
worst
hour
of
the
day
.
Vitality
.
Dull
,
gloomy
:
hate
this
hour
.
Feel
as
if
I
had
been
eaten
and
spewed
.
Provost
’
s
house
.
The
reverend
Dr
Salmon
:
tinned
salmon
.
Well
tinned
in
there
.
Like
a
mortuary
chapel
.
Wouldn
’
t
live
in
it
if
they
paid
me
.
