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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 439/821
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Prrprr
.
Must
be
the
bur
.
Fff
!
Oo
.
Rrpr
.
Nations
of
the
earth
.
No
-
one
behind
.
She
’
s
passed
.
Then
and
not
till
then
.
Tram
kran
kran
kran
.
Good
oppor
.
Coming
.
Krandlkrankran
.
I
’
m
sure
it
’
s
the
burgund
.
Yes
.
One
,
two
.
Let
my
epitaph
be
.
Kraaaaaa
.
Written
.
I
have
.
Pprrpffrrppffff
.
Done
.
I
was
just
passing
the
time
of
day
with
old
Troy
of
the
D
.
M
.
P
.
at
the
corner
of
Arbour
hill
there
and
be
damned
but
a
bloody
sweep
came
along
and
he
near
drove
his
gear
into
my
eye
.
I
turned
around
to
let
him
have
the
weight
of
my
tongue
when
who
should
I
see
dodging
along
Stony
Batter
only
Joe
Hynes
.
—
Lo
,
Joe
,
says
I
.
How
are
you
blowing
?
Did
you
see
that
bloody
chimneysweep
near
shove
my
eye
out
with
his
brush
?
—
Soot
’
s
luck
,
says
Joe
.
Who
’
s
the
old
ballocks
you
were
talking
to
?
—
Old
Troy
,
says
I
,
was
in
the
force
.
I
’
m
on
two
minds
not
to
give
that
fellow
in
charge
for
obstructing
the
thoroughfare
with
his
brooms
and
ladders
.
