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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 819/821
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I
suppose
hed
know
then
and
could
you
pass
it
easily
pass
what
I
thought
he
was
talking
about
the
rock
of
Gibraltar
the
way
he
put
it
thats
a
very
nice
invention
too
by
the
way
only
I
like
letting
myself
down
after
in
the
hole
as
far
as
I
can
squeeze
and
pull
the
chain
then
to
flush
it
nice
cool
pins
and
needles
still
theres
something
in
it
I
suppose
I
always
used
to
know
by
Millys
when
she
was
a
child
whether
she
had
worms
or
not
still
all
the
same
paying
him
for
that
how
much
is
that
doctor
one
guinea
please
and
asking
me
had
I
frequent
omissions
where
do
those
old
fellows
get
all
the
words
they
have
omissions
with
his
shortsighted
eyes
on
me
cocked
sideways
I
wouldnt
trust
him
too
far
to
give
me
chloroform
or
God
knows
what
else
still
I
liked
him
when
he
sat
down
to
write
the
thing
out
frowning
so
severe
his
nose
intelligent
like
that
you
be
damned
you
lying
strap
O
anything
no
matter
who
except
an
idiot
he
was
clever
enough
to
spot
that
of
course
that
was
all
thinking
of
him
and
his
mad
crazy
letters
my
Precious
one
everything
connected
with
your
glorious
Body
everything
underlined
that
comes
from
it
is
a
thing
of
beauty
and
of
joy
for
ever
something
he
got
out
of
some
nonsensical
book
that
he
had
me
always
at
myself
4
and
5
times
a
day
sometimes
and
I
said
I
hadnt
are
you
sure
O
yes
I
said
I
am
quite
sure
in
a
way
that
shut
him
up
I
knew
what
was
coming
next
only
natural
weakness
it
was
he
excited
me
I
dont
know
how
the
first
night
ever
we
met
when
I
was
living
in
Rehoboth
terrace
we
stood
staring
at
one
another
for
about
10
minutes
as
if
we
met
somewhere
I
suppose
on
account
of
my
being
jewess
looking
after
my
mother
he
used
to
amuse
me
the
things
he
said
with
the
half
sloothering
smile
on
him
and
all
the
Doyles
said
he
was
going
to
stand
for
a
member
of
Parliament
O
wasnt
I
the
born
fool
to
believe
all
his
blather
about
home
rule
and
the
land
league
sending
me
that
long
strool
of
a
song
out
of
the
Huguenots
to
sing
in
French
to
be
more
classy
O
beau
pays
de
la
Touraine
that
I
never
even
sang
once
explaining
and
rigmaroling
about
religion
and
persecution
he
wont
let
you
enjoy
anything
naturally
then
might
he
as
a
great
favour
the
very
1st
opportunity
he
got
a
chance
in
Brighton
square
running
into
my
bedroom
pretending
the
ink
got
on
his
hands
to
wash
it
off
with
the
Albion
milk
and
sulphur
soap
I
used
to
use
and
the
gelatine
still
round
it
O
I
laughed
myself
sick
at
him
that
day
I
better
not
make
an
alnight
sitting
on
this
affair
they
ought
to
make
chambers
a
natural
size
so
that
a
woman
could
sit
on
it
properly
he
kneels
down
to
do
it
I
suppose
there
isnt
in
all
creation
another
man
with
the
habits
he
has
look
at
the
way
hes
sleeping
at
the
foot
of
the
bed
how
can
he
without
a
hard
bolster
its
well
he
doesnt
kick
or
he
might
knock
out
all
my
teeth
breathing
with
his
hand
on
his
nose
like
that
Indian
god
he
took
me
to
show
one
wet
Sunday
in
the
museum
in
Kildare
street
all
yellow
in
a
pinafore
lying
on
his
side
on
his
hand
with
his
ten
toes
sticking
out
that
he
said
was
a
bigger
religion
than
the
jews
and
Our
Lords
both
put
together
all
over
Asia
imitating
him
as
hes
always
imitating
everybody
I
suppose
he
used
to
sleep
at
the
foot
of
the
bed
too
with
his
big
square
feet
up
in
his
wifes
mouth
damn
this
stinking
thing
anyway
wheres
this
those
napkins
are
ah
yes
I
know
I
hope
the
old
press
doesnt
creak
ah
I
knew
it
would
hes
sleeping
hard
had
a
good
time
somewhere
still
she
must
have
given
him
great
value
for
his
money
of
course
he
has
to
pay
for
it
from
her
O
this
nuisance
of
a
thing
I
hope
theyll
have
something
better
for
us
in
the
other
world
tying
ourselves
up
God
help
us
thats
all
right
for
tonight
now
the
lumpy
old
jingly
bed
always
reminds
me
of
old
Cohen
I
suppose
he
scratched
himself
in
it
often
enough
and
he
thinks
father
bought
it
from
Lord
Napier
that
I
used
to
admire
when
I
was
a
little
girl
because
I
told
him
easy
piano
O
I
like
my
bed
God
here
we
are
as
bad
as
ever
after
16
years
how
many
houses
were
we
in
at
all
Raymond
terrace
and
Ontario
terrace
and
Lombard
street
and
Holles
street
and
he
goes
about
whistling
every
time
were
on
the
run
again
his
huguenots
or
the
frogs
march
pretending
to
help
the
men
with
our
4
sticks
of
furniture
and
then
the
City
Arms
hotel
worse
and
worse
says
Warden
Daly
that
charming
place
on
the
landing
always
somebody
inside
praying
then
leaving
all
their
stinks
after
them
always
know
who
was
in
there
last
every
time
were
just
getting
on
right
something
happens
or
he
puts
his
big
foot
in
it
Thoms
and
Helys
and
Mr
Cuffes
and
Drimmies
either
hes
going
to
be
run
into
prison
over
his
old
lottery
tickets
that
was
to
be
all
our
salvations
or
he
goes
and
gives
impudence
well
have
him
coming
home
with
the
sack
soon
out
of
the
Freeman
too
like
the
rest
on
account
of
those
Sinner
Fein
or
the
freemasons
then
well
see
if
the
little
man
he
showed
me
dribbling
along
in
the
wet
all
by
himself
round
by
Coadys
lane
will
give
him
much
consolation
that
he
says
is
so
capable
and
sincerely
Irish
he
is
indeed
judging
by
the
sincerity
of
the
trousers
I
saw
on
him
wait
theres
Georges
church
bells
wait
3
quarters
the
hour
wait
two
oclock
well
thats
a
nice
hour
of
the
night
for
him
to
be
coming
home
at
to
anybody
climbing
down
into
the
area
if
anybody
saw
him
Ill
knock
him
off
that
little
habit
tomorrow
first
Ill
look
at
his
shirt
to
see
or
Ill
see
if
he
has
that
French
letter
still
in
his
pocketbook
I
suppose
he
thinks
I
dont
know
deceitful
men
all
their
20
pockets
arent
enough
for
their
lies
then
why
should
we
tell
them
even
if
its
the
truth
they
dont
believe
you
then
tucked
up
in
bed
like
those
babies
in
the
Aristocrats
Masterpiece
he
brought
me
another
time
as
if
we
hadnt
enough
of
that
in
real
life
without
some
old
Aristocrat
or
whatever
his
name
is
disgusting
you
more
with
those
rotten
pictures
children
with
two
heads
and
no
legs
thats
the
kind
of
villainy
theyre
always
dreaming
about
with
not
another
thing
in
their
empty
heads
they
ought
to
get
slow
poison
the
half
of
them
then
tea
and
toast
for
him
buttered
on
both
sides
and
newlaid
eggs
I
suppose
Im
nothing
any
more
when
I
wouldnt
let
him
lick
me
in
Holles
street
one
night
man
man
tyrant
as
ever
for
the
one
thing
he
slept
on
the
floor
half
the
night
naked
the
way
the
jews
used
when
somebody
dies
belonged
to
them
and
wouldnt
eat
any
breakfast
or
speak
a
word
wanting
to
be
petted
so
I
thought
I
stood
out
enough
for
one
time
and
let
him
he
does
it
all
wrong
too
thinking
only
of
his
own
pleasure
his
tongue
is
too
flat
or
I
dont
know
what
he
forgets
that
wethen
I
dont
Ill
make
him
do
it
again
if
he
doesnt
mind
himself
and
lock
him
down
to
sleep
in
the
coalcellar
with
the
blackbeetles
I
wonder
was
it
her
Josie
off
her
head
with
my
castoffs
hes
such
a
born
liar
too
no
hed
never
have
the
courage
with
a
married
woman
thats
why
he
wants
me
and
Boylan
though
as
for
her
Denis
as
she
calls
him
that
forlornlooking
spectacle
you
couldnt
call
him
a
husband
yes
its
some
little
bitch
hes
got
in
with
even
when
I
was
with
him
with
Milly
at
the
College
races
that
Hornblower
with
the
childs
bonnet
on
the
top
of
his
nob
let
us
into
by
the
back
way
he
was
throwing
his
sheeps
eyes
at
those
two
doing
skirt
duty
up
and
down
I
tried
to
wink
at
him
first
no
use
of
course
and
thats
the
way
his
money
goes
this
is
the
fruits
of
Mr
Paddy
Dignam
yes
they
were
all
in
great
style
at
the
grand
funeral
in
the
paper
Boylan
brought
in
if
they
saw
a
real
officers
funeral
thatd
be
something
reversed
arms
muffled
drums
the
poor
horse
walking
behind
in
black
L
Boom
and
Tom
Kernan
that
drunken
little
barrelly
man
that
bit
his
tongue
off
falling
down
the
mens
W
C
drunk
in
some
place
or
other
and
Martin
Cunningham
and
the
two
Dedaluses
and
Fanny
MCoys
husband
white
head
of
cabbage
skinny
thing
with
a
turn
in
her
eye
trying
to
sing
my
songs
shed
want
to
be
born
all
over
again
and
her
old
green
dress
with
the
lowneck
as
she
cant
attract
them
any
other
way
like
dabbling
on
a
rainy
day
I
see
it
all
now
plainly
and
they
call
that
friendship
killing
and
then
burying
one
another
and
they
all
with
their
wives
and
families
at
home
more
especially
Jack
Power
keeping
that
barmaid
he
does
of
course
his
wife
is
always
sick
or
going
to
be
sick
or
just
getting
better
of
it
and
hes
a
goodlooking
man
still
though
hes
getting
a
bit
grey
over
the
ears
theyre
a
nice
lot
all
of
them
well
theyre
not
going
to
get
my
husband
again
into
their
clutches
if
I
can
help
it
making
fun
of
him
then
behind
his
back
I
know
well
when
he
goes
on
with
his
idiotics
because
he
has
sense
enough
not
to
squander
every
penny
piece
he
earns
down
their
gullets
and
looks
after
his
wife
and
family
goodfornothings
poor
Paddy
Dignam
all
the
same
Im
sorry
in
a
way
for
him
what
are
his
wife
and
5
children
going
to
do
unless
he
was
insured
comical
little
teetotum
always
stuck
up
in
some
pub
corner
and
her
or
her
son
waiting
Bill
Bailey
wont
you
please
come
home
her
widows
weeds
wont
improve
her
appearance
theyre
awfully
becoming
though
if
youre
goodlooking
what
men
wasnt
he
yes
he
was
at
the
Glencree
dinner
and
Ben
Dollard
base
barreltone
the
night
he
borrowed
the
swallowtail
to
sing
out
of
in
Holles
street
squeezed
and
squashed
into
them
and
grinning
all
over
his
big
Dolly
face
like
a
wellwhipped
childs
botty
didnt
he
look
a
balmy
ballocks
sure
enough
that
must
have
been
a
spectacle
on
the
stage
imagine
paying
5
/
-
in
the
preserved
seats
for
that
to
see
him
trotting
off
in
his
trowlers
and
Simon
Dedalus
too
he
was
always
turning
up
half
screwed
singing
the
second
verse
first
the
old
love
is
the
new
was
one
of
his
so
sweetly
sang
the
maiden
on
the
hawthorn
bough
he
was
always
on
for
flirtyfying
too
when
I
sang
Maritana
with
him
at
Freddy
Mayers
private
opera
he
had
a
delicious
glorious
voice
Phoebe
dearest
goodbye
sweetheart
sweetheart
he
always
sang
it
not
like
Bartell
DArcy
sweet
tart
goodbye
of
course
he
had
the
gift
of
the
voice
so
there
was
no
art
in
it
all
over
you
like
a
warm
showerbath
O
Maritana
wildwood
flower
we
sang
splendidly
though
it
was
a
bit
too
high
for
my
register
even
transposed
and
he
was
married
at
the
time
to
May
Goulding
but
then
hed
say
or
do
something
to
knock
the
good
out
of
it
hes
a
widower
now
I
wonder
what
sort
is
his
son
he
says
hes
an
author
and
going
to
be
a
university
professor
of
Italian
and
Im
to
take
lessons
what
is
he
driving
at
now
showing
him
my
photo
its
not
good
of
me
I
ought
to
have
got
it
taken
in
drapery
that
never
looks
out
of
fashion
still
I
look
young
in
it
I
wonder
he
didnt
make
him
a
present
of
it
altogether
and
me
too
after
all
why
not
I
saw
him
driving
down
to
the
Kingsbridge
station
with
his
father
and
mother
I
was
in
mourning
thats
11
years
ago
now
yes
hed
be
11
though
what
was
the
good
in
going
into
mourning
for
what
was
neither
one
thing
nor
the
other
the
first
cry
was
enough
for
me
I
heard
the
deathwatch
too
ticking
in
the
wall
of
course
he
insisted
hed
go
into
mourning
for
the
cat
I
suppose
hes
a
man
now
by
this
time
he
was
an
innocent
boy
then
and
a
darling
little
fellow
in
his
lord
Fauntleroy
suit
and
curly
hair
like
a
prince
on
the
stage
when
I
saw
him
at
Mat
Dillons
he
liked
me
too
I
remember
they
all
do
wait
by
God
yes
wait
yes
hold
on
he
was
on
the
cards
this
morning
when
I
laid
out
the
deck
union
with
a
young
stranger
neither
dark
nor
fair
you
met
before
I
thought
it
meant
him
but
hes
no
chicken
nor
a
stranger
either
besides
my
face
was
turned
the
other
way
what
was
the
7th
card
after
that
the
10
of
spades
for
a
journey
by
land
then
there
was
a
letter
on
its
way
and
scandals
too
the
3
queens
and
the
8
of
diamonds
for
a
rise
in
society
yes
wait
it
all
came
out
and
2
red
8s
for
new
garments
look
at
that
and
didnt
I
dream
something
too
yes
there
was
something
about
poetry
in
it
I
hope
he
hasnt
long
greasy
hair
hanging
into
his
eyes
or
standing
up
like
a
red
Indian
what
do
they
go
about
like
that
for
only
getting
themselves
and
their
poetry
laughed
at
I
always
liked
poetry
when
I
was
a
girl
first
I
thought
he
was
a
poet
like
lord
Byron
and
not
an
ounce
of
it
in
his
composition
I
thought
he
was
quite
different
I
wonder
is
he
too
young
hes
about
wait
88
I
was
married
88
Milly
is
15
yesterday
89
what
age
was
he
then
at
Dillons
5
or
6
about
88
I
suppose
hes
20
or
more
Im
not
too
old
for
him
if
hes
23
or
24
I
hope
hes
not
that
stuckup
university
student
sort
no
otherwise
he
wouldnt
go
sitting
down
in
the
old
kitchen
with
him
taking
Eppss
cocoa
and
talking
of
course
he
pretended
to
understand
it
all
probably
he
told
him
he
was
out
of
Trinity
college
hes
very
young
to
be
a
professor
I
hope
hes
not
a
professor
like
Goodwin
was
he
was
a
potent
professor
of
John
Jameson
they
all
write
about
some
woman
in
their
poetry
well
I
suppose
he
wont
find
many
like
me
where
softly
sighs
of
love
the
light
guitar
where
poetry
is
in
the
air
the
blue
sea
and
the
moon
shining
so
beautifully
coming
back
on
the
nightboat
from
Tarifa
the
lighthouse
at
Europa
point
the
guitar
that
fellow
played
was
so
expressive
will
I
ever
go
back
there
again
all
new
faces
two
glancing
eyes
a
lattice
hid
Ill
sing
that
for
him
theyre
my
eyes
if
hes
anything
of
a
poet
two
eyes
as
darkly
bright
as
loves
own
star
arent
those
beautiful
words
as
loves
young
star
itll
be
a
change
the
Lord
knows
to
have
an
intelligent
person
to
talk
to
about
yourself
not
always
listening
to
him
and
Billy
Prescotts
ad
and
Keyess
ad
and
Tom
the
Devils
ad
then
if
anything
goes
wrong
in
their
business
we
have
to
suffer
Im
sure
hes
very
distinguished
Id
like
to
meet
a
man
like
that
God
not
those
other
ruck
besides
hes
young
those
fine
young
men
I
could
see
down
in
Margate
strand
bathingplace
from
the
side
of
the
rock
standing
up
in
the
sun
naked
like
a
God
or
something
and
then
plunging
into
the
sea
with
them
why
arent
all
men
like
that
thered
be
some
consolation
for
a
woman
like
that
lovely
little
statue
he
bought
I
could
look
at
him
all
day
long
curly
head
and
his
shoulders
his
finger
up
for
you
to
listen
theres
real
beauty
and
poetry
for
you
I
often
felt
I
wanted
to
kiss
him
all
over
also
his
lovely
young
cock
there
so
simple
I
wouldnt
mind
taking
him
in
my
mouth
if
nobody
was
looking
as
if
it
was
asking
you
to
suck
it
so
clean
and
white
he
looks
with
his
boyish
face
I
would
too
in
1
/
2
a
minute
even
if
some
of
it
went
down
what
its
only
like
gruel
or
the
dew
theres
no
danger
besides
hed
be
so
clean
compared
with
those
pigs
of
men
I
suppose
never
dream
of
washing
it
from
1
years
end
to
the
other
the
most
of
them
only
thats
what
gives
the
women
the
moustaches
Im
sure
itll
be
grand
if
I
can
only
get
in
with
a
handsome
young
poet
at
my
age
Ill
throw
them
the
1st
thing
in
the
morning
till
I
see
if
the
wishcard
comes
out
or
Ill
try
pairing
the
lady
herself
and
see
if
he
comes
out
Ill
read
and
study
all
I
can
find
or
learn
a
bit
off
by
heart
if
I
knew
who
he
likes
so
he
wont
think
me
stupid
if
he
thinks
all
women
are
the
same
and
I
can
teach
him
the
other
part
Ill
make
him
feel
all
over
him
till
he
half
faints
under
me
then
hell
write
about
me
lover
and
mistress
publicly
too
with
our
2
photographs
in
all
the
papers
when
he
becomes
famous
O
but
then
what
am
I
going
to
do
about
him
though
