#ignatius is my foot on their butt

[writerswho]

They gave a name to Cousin Itt, they went there and gave a name to Cousin Itt. I have excused several things in this series, but I cannot excuse this. This is a crime, a sacrilege, somebody has to pay, somebody has to suffer. 

[brido]

Mike and Vicky Go to Ecuador (Day 3)

When the Spanish missionaries were setting up Old Town Quito on the ruins of Incan temples, they didn’t really take into account that cars would exist in 400 years and an impatient tourist might come to visit from the U.S. and hate being stuck on the narrow streets in traffic, surrounded by city busses spewing an ungodly amount of exhaust in a city whose altitude already leaves you gasping for air. That’s a good place to start Day 3, when my wife and I hopped in a car with my sister and brother-in-law to see the sights of the first city UNESCO’s deemed to be a World Heritage Site.

Our first stop was up El Panecillo to see the massive aluminum Virgin of Quito statue that overlooks the city from a volcanic hill at 10,000 feet above sea level. It was built in 1976 and is actually based on a foot-high wooden sculpture by Bernardo de Legarda in 1734 that the city fucking loves for some reason. I don’t get it and I’m actually trying to. The original looks like something my Irish Catholic grandmother might have kept in her bedroom. But it’s apparently venerated throughout the Andes in the same way Mexicans see the Virgin of Guadalupe, but sans the whole miraculous origin story.

Well, I take that back. The Virgin of Guadalupe appeared at a chapel built on the ruins of a shrine to an Aztec goddess and the Virgin of Quito is high on a hill that the Incas used in their worship of the sun and is based on an original which is permanently displayed in a Franciscan church that was built over the ruins of an Incan temple. Or the home of Atahualpa. Either way, in both cases the Spanish Catholics went smashy smashy build build for Mary. Which basically means that El Panecillo is part Virgin of Guadalupe, part Christ the Redeemer, part Pieta, part Statue of Liberty and all Quito, bay-bee.

Our next stop was down the windy cobblestone hill of El Panecillo to the Basilica of the National Vow. Because no foreign trip with my wife is complete without taking her formerly-Protestant behind to some ornate monument to Catholicism. And there’d be even more of that in a minute. But the basilica is an impressive 19th Century neo-Gothic knockoff of Notre-Dame, complete with gargoyles of animals that are local to Ecuador, like armadillos, iguanas and Galapagos tortoises. Which is actually kind of fun. 

The best part was that an elevator can take you to the top of the basillica, where you can walk nervously across rickety wooden scaffolding and then scale a horrifyingly steep 25-30-foot metal ladder to check out (literally) breathtaking views from the roof. I was scared out of my mind, even at the wooden scaffolding part. But when my sister and wife (who are just girls) happily sauntered across the wooden walkway, I had to talk myself into following after them. My sister bowed out at the metal ladder. But then my wife and brother-in-law basically said, “I’ll go if you go” to the death ladder. And so up we all went. Ohmygod.

The entire time I was at the top (well, there was one last set of steps to go up even higher, but fuck that shit) I was increasingly nervous about how I was supposed to get down from there. Like, do I trust myself to be able to go down backwards down the ladder? Or do I go down the ladder like they’re stairs, where I’d be one slipped heel away from an early demise. I’m getting that fight-or-flight sensation in my stomach just thinking about it now. And at the time, I actually found myself getting angry with how cavalier all the young tourists were on the ladder and the roof like we weren’t all going to die. I distinctly remember looking down and seeing actual cigarette butts on the roof up there, presumably from some health-nut European backpacker who didn’t understand how anything works.

As soon as I’d get the courage to go back down, I’d have to wait for more enthusiastic youngsters to rush up the ladder and then a wave of doubt would rush over me again. Basically, what I’m telling you is that I kind of regret going to the top of that fucking basilica.  

In the end, as I was standing at the ladder waiting for that right mental moment to proceed, the sweaty tourist I hated the most asked me if it was okay if he could go down ahead of me. I obliged. The sweaty tourist I hated the most was actually the first person I saw go down like facing forwards, treating the ladder like they were stairs. So after one or two failed attempts at positioning my own body in a way I could climb down backwards, my wife said, “That one guy just went down facing forwards and I think it looked a lot easier.” That was all I needed to hear. I went facing forward. I made it down. I hated the sweaty guy a little less. And I still don’t like thinking about the way down. I just like the part when I didn’t die. In my brief moment of bravery, I didn’t even give a shit about the rickety scaffolding on the way back. Or the teenager who hit on my wife. The relief I felt from scaling down that ladder was a semi-religious experience in itself. Like I’d found my own personal Jesus at the top of ‘Chrysler 300 Notre-Dame’.

Leaving the basilica also ended up being a bit of a nightmare. At 11 am sharp every Monday, there’s a changing of the guard in Independence Plaza, right in front of Carondelet Palace, where the President, Vice President and the Ministry of the Interior of Ecuador all live. Sometimes the president even comes out and greats the public from a balcony that’s like, feet from the square. All right there in the best preserved colonial city center in the Americas. It’s nuts. 

That’d be like if Independence Mall in Philadelphia still had the President’s House and Donald Trump, Mike Pence, Jeff Sessions and whoever the Secretary of Homeland Security is all lived in that same old house. It sounds like a reality show producer’s wet dream. Or the most expensive security detail in the history of of the universe.

Since we were on a bit of a tight schedule, we had to hop out of our car on one of Old Town’s narrow streets that were never meant to have cars in the first place and rush past the traffic and through the plaza (where there also happened to be a fucking protest) to la Compania de Jesus.

It was a kind of dizzying experience. Would it have been nice to take in the super historic plaza? Sure. But part of that history is secular president/dictator Eloy Alfaro (the guy who renamed the plaza and commissioned a statue to independence) being dragged through that same plaza in 1912 by a pro-Catholic mob before his body was set on fire. Also, the Bishop of Quito was poisoned with strychnine during Good Friday mass at the nearby Cathedral in 1877. And the pro-Catholic president/dictator, Gabriel Garcia Moreno, was also murdered on the palace steps by Freemasons with revolvers and a machete in 1875. I can keep going... Okay, I will. 

In 1949, a radio station in Quito did the same War of the Worlds broadcast stunt that Orson Welles pulled in the U.S. 11 years earlier. It set off a wave of panic in the city with police and fire fighters rushing out to fight the aliens, which actually got much worse when the broadcast was revealed as a hoax. Several people died in the ensuing riots and fires, including the show producer’s girlfriend and nephew. The producer had to flee to Venezuela. I mean, I still felt brave from conquering my fear of heights in the basilica, but I wasn’t taking my fucking chances with any Ecuadorian riots. 

The Church of the Society of Jesus is a super ornate, and gold-leaved Jesuit church they started building in 1605 and didn’t finish until 1765. And it’s deducted major points for not allowing me to take photos inside. I had a hard time following our English-speaking tour guide. But I know she kept mentioning Ignatius of Loyola and Saint Mariana of Jesus de Paredes, the patron saint of Ecuador. All while we were completely surrounded by baroque all-gold-everything and I fumed over not being able to take pictures of anything but a stupid old bell and the outside door that makes La Compania look like a Chinese restaurant.      

My wife said the tour guide did mention the Jesuits getting the boot from King Charles in 1767, but I was probably too grumpy to notice. There was also some lady that just waltzed into our tour group without paying and kept standing uncomfortably close to me. But I guess it’s okay because I was able to look it up later. Essentially what happened is that the Jesuits, who were loyal to the pope, got a little too wealthy and independent for the liking of European empires at the time. Oh, and unlike those European empires, they weren’t cool with enslaving the native populations of the Americas. That was a big factor in the decision to import slaves from Africa, who worked on their land and helped fund their universities and led them to attain the wealth and power feared by people like King Charles III.        

So Charles took a page from Philip IV of France, who got rid of the Knights Templar in 1307. The Jesuits got the boot from Spanish territories, despite the threat of eternal damnation from the pope, a lot of the Jesuits died on their way into exile and the Spanish confiscated their land to be auctioned off to people whose descendants might one day give me a tour of their rose factory. King Charles III is also known for trying to convince the people of Madrid to stop throwing their shit buckets out their windows. So there’s that too.    

The Jesuits were eventually restored after the Napoleonic wars. They’re doing just fine now and Pope Francis even became the first Jesuit pope in 2013. Scorsese made a movie about some Jesuits in 2016. So everything is fine. I mean, it’s really declining in numbers. And Georgetown University had to apologize for slavery a few months ago. But it’s fine. They even have a big gold church in Quito where nobody is allowed to take photos.  

The tour guide told us something I couldn’t understand about a picture of Mary in the church blinking one time or something. There was another miracle she talked about that was depicted on a gold wall about someone turning food into a bouquet of flowers or something. I might have heard it wrong, but I whispered, “That’s a stupid miracle” to my wife, but she shot me a look to be more respectful. And then there was even more stuff about Saint Mariana of Jesus de Paredes, who self-flagellated with the help of an indigenous servant and starved herself to become so pure that when she died, a white lily sprang up from her blood and bloomed on the spot. Again, I couldn’t really follow what the woman was saying. 

Oh, and there was a horrifying copy of Hernando de la Cruz’s El Infierno painting (what happened to the original?), depicting various sinners being tortured in hell for whatever bad thing they did during their life. My sister asked what one of the words meant on the painting and the tour guide said, “This is loan shark.” She asked what another word meant and the guide just said, “Homosexuality.” We moved on. I’m actually frustrated right now that I can’t find more about this stuff Online. Especially since I know that if this shit was in Europe some historian would take it seriously enough to write about it. No word on whether one of the sins in the painting was photography. Yeah, I’m still mad.      

As we headed off to lunch, my sister tried to convince us to go into the Church and Monastery of St. Francis, the same church the Spanish immediately started building after the city was founded in 1534. It’s where the mediocre wooden Virgin of Quito statue is proudly displayed. And right on top of those Incan ruins. There’s also a legend about the church’s architect, Cantuna, making a deal with the devil to finish the atrium, but then removing a brick to get out of his deal. That all sounded great to me, but my wife and I really had to pee. So we headed across the plaza to Casa Gangotera where I found a bathroom.

Casa Gangotera was another memorable, if not stuffy, dining experience. It’s a hotel and the former home of some Spanish gazillionaire in old timey Quito. Victoria and I were talked into the tasting menu, which was way too much food yet again. But I hate to admit that some of the courses were better than the versions we got at Chilcabamba the day before. I even tried llama meat. Remember yesterday when my guide said llama meat was better than beef? Well, it’s not. And I still hadn’t yet decided whether or not I was brave enough to eat cuy.

Our final excursions of the early afternoon were to go shopping at La Mariscal craft market and then to Olga Fisch Folklore (Olga Fisch is credited with recognizing the quality of the local, traditional handicrafts and making them popular again) to see local, traditional handicrafts we couldn’t afford. 

One of my favorite things to do when visiting a foreign place I’ve never been to before, besides looking at a Frommer’s guide or searching for information Online, is to see what the locals find important about their own country by looking in the gift shops. Besides the coffee and chocolate and Panama hats and blankets and leather goods and animal masks and humming bird statues that every Ecuadorian store seemed to sell, La Mariscal also introduced me to Oswaldo Guayasamin (who I’ll get to on another day) and the Cucuruchos, whose figurines looked as much like Orko from He-Man as they did the purple Klan. I should probably explain. 

Spain has the tradition of the Capirote, which originated in the Inquisition as a symbol of humiliation (like a dunce cap), and that tradition was carried over into a form of public penance during Easter ceremonies. The same is true with the Cucuruchos, who parade barefoot through Old Town Quito on Good Friday, carrying crosses and flagellating themselves during the procession. The best view of the whole thing is supposedly even at Casa Gangotera. Anyway, the anti-Catholic KKK might have borrowed the costume design for their own super terribleness. I’m guessing American tourists like to buy the figurines of the Purple Klan to shock their friends at home while simultaneously being able to go, “What? It’s not the Klan!” And then pronouncing it ‘la cucaracha’ because everything south of America is Mexico.  

I don’t know. I half-heartedly insisted I wanted to see a real Cucurucho for the rest of the trip. That, and I kept quoting my 2007 Frommer’s guide by saying I wanted to eat at Zazu, “the best and hippest spot in Quito.” Just because I liked saying ‘Zazu’ and also noticed that nobody in Quito thinks that statement about its best-ness or hip-ness is true. 

My sister did tell me that there was a place called Cafe Plaza Grande (right next to Carondelet Palace) that has a Cucurucho serve people ice cream and pose with them for horrifying photos. On the Philadelphia president house reality show, Jeff Sessions and Donald Trump would fucking love that place! Ice cream and the Klan? Jesus. But everyone in my family was adamant that any photo with a Cucurucho could be taken out of context on social media and the whole thing would be a bad idea. It’s for the best. We did buy a bunch of other stuff at the market though. And this concluded Day 3.

[ulyssesredux]

Aeolous

HELLO THERE, ESQUIRE, ESQUIRE, BELIEF.

—And yet he died without having entered the land of Egypt and into the office behind, parting the vent of his present portance, which of you but counterfeit? Return to the Telegraph.

―I know.

―After he'll see.

—But, ladies and gentlemen, had he bowed his will and bowed his will and bowed his head and bowed his head firmly.

―Crawford said, helping himself.

SHORT BUT TO THE RAW.

-We were always loyal to lost causes, the editor cried in Mr Bloom's face: talking in the peerless panorama of Ireland's portfolio, unmatched, despite their wellpraised prototypes in other vaunted prize regions, for his thoughts, would you have, though, I charge thee, 'Twas empire charmed thy heart. He went down the manner of his neck, Simon Dedalus says.

ITHACANS VOW PEN.

Besides, if it be to God. He wants two keys at the foot of Nelson's pillar to take in many sorts of music that will put you to hear, their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd most valour, spoke not for idle markets, sir?

―They went under. Mark'd you his absolute 'shall?

―I must get a drink after that.says she; 'be opposite with a bit in the heat of their power are forth already, sir.

Another newsboy shot past them to the successful. -Taylor had come there, of great estate, years, when youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way towards Nannetti's reading closet.

Feathered his nest well anyhow. No, sooth, thou most excellent devil of wit!

―My valour's poison'd with only suffering stain by him; I saw it, Myles Crawford said.

―He ceased and looked at them, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers.

―Myles Crawford said. -Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford and said: Gentlemen, Stephen said.

THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES.

The palm of beauty from Argive Helen and handed it to poor Penelope.

―

-Who wants a par to call me fool. —'Twas rank and fame that tempted thee, captain; and your cry! An Irishman saved his life I gave him that which they have had you put a false conclusion: I mean. A spirit I am now so far my son Were in Arabia, and made what work I pleas'd; 'tis well; a wrack past hope he was beset: where, if I lov'd my little should be so,—hear me speak: I would not answer to; fresh embassies and suits well for Rome. —That will do, Lenehan said. I could be corrupted. Yes, Red Murray said earnestly, a straw hat awry on his shoulder.

―Now am I going to tram it out. Stephen said, waving the cigarettecase aside.

Here: what's the matter? Johnny, make out for him. Holohan told me. Dead noise.

-I can see them. Don't you forget that! This ad, Mr O'Madden Burke said.

―The tissues rustled up in the Star.

―—show themselves; which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for, what? Where's Monks?

Davy Stephens, minute in a minute. Nay, an you had done the deed. Double four.

We haven't got the chance of a doit.

WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT!

―And so is now in some commerce with my speech; he did not mock us.

He lifted his voice. J J O'Molloy said.

Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons, mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly.

―

You don't say so?

―Feathered his nest well anyhow.

Mr Patrick Dignam. You're looking extra. Lay on, Sandymount Green, Rathmines, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's Cross. We have ever glorified my friends of noble touch, when for a coward and a madman: one would think his face rapidly with the shears and whispered: The moon, shouting their emulation.

So, your kinsman; but from her birth had number'd thirteen years. See it in for July, Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the small of the land of Egypt and that I may proceed in my master's griefs.

SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON THE CANVASSER AT WORK.

He strode on jerkily. Where, good fellow. He closed his long lips. —B is parkgate. I beguil'd! Enough of the outlaw. Thumping. The bloodiest old tartar God ever made. This double worship, where manners ne'er were preach'd. On the brewery float. Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot!

SOPHOMORE PLUMPS FOR OLD MAN OF THE CROZIER AND REASONS.

Vagrants and daylabourers are you now like John Philpot Curran?

Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford and said quietly to Stephen: He wants it copied if it's not too late I told councillor Nannetti from the hallway. Mr Crawford? Yet, welcome! A Hungarian it was follow'd, May give you any commission from your lord: I mean, to the successful. Racing special! His finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating. It is amusing to view the unpar one ar alleled embarra two ars is it? I see what you mean. House of keys. Poor papa with his lord, I pray you, a speedy infirmity, for the racing special, sir, my masters! J O'Molloy, smiling palely, took up his cutting. —Bloom is at the top. Sure, my noble heart a root of ancient envy. Where is that young Dedalus the moving spirit. Go not home. Well, I will, then; and in his blood. The world is before you. Rows of cast steel. —The Rose of Castile. That's copy. What's thy name? Keyes just now. Let there be life. —Come in. But Mario was said to be trouble there one day. Most pertinent question, the vicechancellor, is his blood.

He raised his head. I say? Have you ere now denied the asker? There is no more to say he'll turn your current in a man now at a poor man's house; be that I may pass this doing. What, what then?

―Lady, you know, councillor, just what he wants it changed.

Where shall I feast him? Reads it backwards first.

All off for a fellow O' the air and against the mantelshelf, had the foot and mouth disease and no mistake! You know how he made his way towards Nannetti's reading closet.

―If Bloom were here, he said.

Nay then, know me.

―J J O'Molloy said quietly and slowly: Quite right too, Mr Dedalus said, hurrying out.

―Wellread fellow. Madam, I'm Adam.

―He forgot Hamlet. —There it is, Red Murray whispered.

―How! -What was he doing in Irishtown?

I stood in his sleep.

Ah! Out of my fancy: only that name remains to the window. Florence MacCabe.

WE SEE THE DISSOLUTION OF PEACE.

Child, man, Whom with a reflective glance at his toecaps.

―-Did you? -What is it? Mistress Mall's picture?

Johnny, make I as patient as the sea.

―But I do live at peace.

X is Davy's publichouse in upper Leeson street.

―Be good to us shall have a heart of stone. Alexander Keyes, you know? What did Ignatius Gallaher used to be her wooer. 'Under the canopy.

Jesusmario with rougy cheeks, doublet and spindle legs. -the-Goat. He's poor in, and such a confirmed countenance. That's press. Right.

Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons, mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly.

―J O'Molloy said, taking out a cigarettecase in murmuring meditation, but they always fell.

O'Rourke, prince of Breffni.

-O! We'll call thee? The air blue scrawls and under the table, read on: no; though therein you can imagine the style of his worth as I could not with such words that are in arms. Mr Bloom laid his cutting. Worth six on him. Do you hear the belly's answer.

-When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply.

HIS NATIVE DORIC.

―-Ossory. To be seen? Peace! You sooth'd not, never trust me. They save up three and tenpence in a red tin letterbox moneybox. -Help!

I am a foul way out.

―We charge you, when it spit forth blood at Grecian swords, contemning. I heard the voice of occupation and the butcher. He'll never hear him speak, our general? Ireland my country.

What cause, not an imperium, that for his death written this long time perhaps.

―Let him die for 't. Three merry men be we. Hard after them Myles Crawford and said quietly to Stephen. Mr Bloom said. If you will. —And poor Gumley is down there at Butt bridge.

A lie! Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy solemness out O' favour with my reason that persuades me to my nature where my bones shall be so. -the—Off Blackpitts, Stephen said.

―They were nature's gentlemen, had he bowed his head. Owing to a lost cause.

―The bloodiest old tartar God ever made. You can do it, the dayfather. Bemock the modest limits of order. —lingering—Is the boss? -I have much, much to learn. We pray the gods, i'd with thee awhile: determine on some course, if he had. Thy reason, Sir Andrew, would they were in Tiber! The nethermost deck of the inflated windbag! What's that?

Stephen turned in surprise.

―Shite and onions! He began: Where do you know, from a girl at the college historical society.

Been walking in muck somewhere. -I see, the professor said. Will you join us, Myles Crawford said with a great eater of beef, and be rul'd; although I know your drift: speak what?

Better not. Want to fix it up. He would never have spoken with the shears and whispered: They went forth to battle, Mr O'Madden Burke, following close, said: It is spoke, she may command where I know him, uncovered as he ran: Skin-the—North Cork militia! He were bitterer against others or against himself. Myles Crawford crammed the sheets into a country far away from them towards the window. All very fine to jeer at it! Israel Adonai Elohenu.

Nightmare from which you will not hear thee speak. -Yes, Evening Telegraph here Hello? Entertainments. Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! —Knee, Lenehan said to be on, Macduff! Law, the professor said. But listen to this, to mourn for your voices might be curses to yourselves?

-Who? Speaking about me? Thank you. And yourself? —Like fellows who had blown up the gage. Ay, a mouthorgan, echoed in the armpit of his newspaper. He offered a cigarette to the editor cried in scornful invective. I must say.

LOST CAUSES, CENTRAL!

—You remind me of Antisthenes, the professor said, going.

―Believe me, councillor, Hynes said moving off. -Hello? Ned Lambert agreed. Nay, but it goes down like hot cake that stuff.

With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds.

―-I'll answer it, damn its soul. M A P.

―Inspiration of genius. -Hello?

―

Is the boss? -Throw him out perhaps.

―He made a sign to a brother, who have all Great cause to work with him.

―

―Thank you.

As for my brandnew riddle! He has it, O dear! Right outside the viceregal lodge, imagine! Learn a lot teaching others. Look sharp and you'll catch him. He's a bear.

A DAYFATHER.

—Yes? Sober serious man with a reflective glance at his toecaps. -He is sitting with a word: I see what I cannot get him. Ah, bloody nonsense. Lord Jesus? —from—Skin-the-Goat drove the car for an instant but, I may be abhorr'd further than seen,—both day and night did we all joy and honour! Fetch him off, gives manhood more approbation than ever she bestowed upon me; the volsces are in arms. What is 'pourquoi? To unbuild the city I am.

Briefly, as well as I do? His name is Keyes. By your leave, and I'll take it round to hear any more of this; your true love's coming, madam, pardon me; gave him that which he set his foot on our shore he never stood to ease his breast forges, that striking of that Egyptian highpriest raised in a gown of humility mark his first approach before my lady has a most war-like. Have you got that? Like that, your news? Let us build an altar to Jehovah. Stephen said. I'll show you. -Eh? Mouth, south; and for an instant and making a treaty find i' the way how did he find that out? —Thanky vous, Lenehan said, Bushe K C, for the day is the steed, and 'tis poetical. What did he find that out? As Hercules Did shake down mellow fruit. —Of course, if you fail in the air with noise. But make you ready? You have no cities nor no wealth: our cities are hives of humanity and our watchful friend The Skibbereen Eagle. Right. Would anyone wish that mouth for her kiss? Passing out he whispered to J J O'Molloy. Thou worthiest Marcius! J J O'Molloy sent a weary sidelong glance towards the statue of the file.

Peace! Now am I beguil'd! True, the sophist. Lenehan wept with a bite in it. Glory be to God. Sayst thou that, Mr Bloom said, holding out a hand. They went forth to battle, Mr Bloom said, his eyes to sweat compassion. Penelope.

WITH THE WINNER.

Let us construct a watercloset. He gave a sudden loud young laugh as a hanging to you. And with a bite in it. -What was their civilisation? I could myself take up the gage.

Give them something with a wave graced echo and fall. I may proceed in my soul disputes well with my reason that persuades me to-morrow; to cure this cause. —Come on, Macduff! He got paralysed there and no mistake! Welts of flesh behind on him.

Lazy idle little schemer. Kyrie eleison! But O! O, my lord by me! Hail fellow well met the next. Owing to a lost cause.

Magennis was speaking to me. Faith, I'll not meddle with my niece till his brains. I had children's voices? Same as Citron's house. Was he short taken?

If you see.

OMINOUS—-YET CAN YOU BLAME THEM?

―The editor came from the top of Nelson's pillar to take in a child's frock.

Red Murray's long shears sliced out the advertisement from the inner office.

―J O'Molloy, about this ad of Keyes's.

Used to get some wind off my chest first.

―Prithee now, mistress, I said banish him that none could tell if he would have found issue. Two old trickies, what talk you of your bragg'd progeny, Thou know'st, great son, the editor cried. Thy friend no less: therefore get you home. Out of this present hour, and for Rome's good.

―If you are mad indeed?

You should have said when he did.

―—Mr Crawford? My Ohio! His finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating.

―They went under with the tune of your conversation would infect my brain, and taking the cutting from his pocket pulling out the soap and stowed it away, tearing away.

―—Bingbang, bangbang. I point at, saw the liveried porter raise his lettered cap as a politician.

I heard his words deftly into the pauses of the empire of the Weekly Freeman of 17 March?

Lukewarm glue in Thom's next door when I was there. Quicker, darlint! Miles of ears of porches. Better not teach him his own shadow this half-hour. Seems to be on, raised an outspanned hand to the gentleman at the junior bar he used to be a fool that the precipitation might down stretch below the first that ever anywhere wherever was. A perfect cretic! Pop in a master of forensic eloquence like Whiteside, like silvertongued O'Hagan. Clank it. —Wait. Same as Citron's house. Alas! —T is viceregal lodge. He set off again to walk by Stephen's side. Calmly, I would be sorry, sir,—he dropp'd it for him. You bloody old pedagogue!

―I did Contend against thy valour.

―Alack! Dublin's prime favourite.

―-Most pertinent question, the professor and took his trophy, saying: My dear Myles, J J O'Molloy said gently. O Jupiter!

THE GRANDEUR THAT WAS ROME.

―Alleluia. With a heart and hand.

―Anne Kearns and Florence MacCabe takes a crubeen and a passy-measures pavin. My Ohio!

―The vent of his resonant unwashed teeth.

―What say you will, put up your swords. You must not.

And with a start.

―-He's pretty well on, Macduff!

-Is the editor to be entombed in an obedient start, make up that: he will not say, Cesario?

―The machines clanked in threefour time.

—Clever, Lenehan said.

―In that there's comfort.

―Did you?

―Mr Bloom said. Fuit Ilium!

―' O!

―—Never mind Gumley, Myles?

―Mouth, south. Better not.

-I see, let us say.

This is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry. Psha! It wasn't me, sir, and trouble not the matter? Sufficient for the show. Way out. Nightmare from which you are well fleshed; come on to the mantelpiece.

―The crows to peck the eagles.

―J J O'Molloy.

―Dublin from the inner door. —Well, J J O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words were these.

―—The turf, Lenehan confirmed, and so forth. I declare it carried. Fire and brimstone!

I are the boys of Wexford who fought with heart and a half if I cannot help in his behalf.

What, wench! I was listening to the rock Tarpeian, and your misdemeanours, you remember? Let him take that in. Been walking in muck somewhere. They turned to Stephen: But listen to this, Sir Toby, my lord? He thrust the sheets back and went into the inner door was opened violently and a polity. -A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh answered with pomp of tone. —What about that body, admiring a glossy crown. Bid them all home; and, holding it ajar, paused. Be calm, be that I was looking for a fresh of breath air! The door of Ruttledge's office creaked again. You must take the one half of what is it? —Telegraph! Thumping. He will bear the business. Kyrie! He closed his long lips. I have often made against the rich golden shaft Hath kill'd the flock of all that ever he heard the charges of our levies, answering us with our general? I prithee, be gone.

―-Him, sir. —Very smart, Mr Dedalus said, of no second brood—Has cluck'd thee to the down line, glided parallel.

―Hear me one word. O yes, every time! -Is the boss?

―I have heard you were conducted to a typesetter neatly distributing type.

―He laughed richly. And so did I. Come; we'll inform them of our saviours also. I'll after him.

―Three bob I lent him in the embracements of his mother; Cry, Welcome, ladies and gentlemen: Great was my speech, mark you, sir, Stephen, the soap I put there.

THE PRESS.

―J O'Molloy. You are most welcome!

―—But wait, Mr Bloom said, elderly and pious, have lived fifty and fiftythree years in Fumbally's lane.

―We'll attend you there?knight? Bullockbefriending bard. Toby, I say: go, and part, being naked, and show you the design I suppose. That will do, now.

He said: It is held that valour is the doer of this knavery.

The same, looking towards the steps. Great was my brother; nor your name to the left along Abbey street.

―And yourself? You so remain.

SHINDY IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

Do not desire to purchase; and my true lip Hath virgin'd it e'er since. An Irishman saved his life on the steps. Art thou mad? Thou art my warrior; I heard thence; these in honour follows Coriolanus. By no manner of means. —There it is, sir! -The accumulation of the symmetry. In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says. Who? I saw him he can kiss my arse? Wait a moment, professor MacHugh responded.

The professor, returning by way of the Weekly Freeman and National Press and the honour go to: come. You know the grounds and authors of it.

―He pushed in.

―What is the house of keys. Well, J J O'Molloy said eagerly.

―Working away, let me be boiled to death with melancholy. Country bumpkin's queries.

―We're in the language of the kings. Vast, I must say.

―Come, let's see the views of Dublin. Whole route, see? —Hello?

―How now! Ere you go hunt, my lord.

To all whom it may come on; if none, awake your dangerous lenity. Thy Fates open their hands.

―Red Murray agreed. Come in.

CLEVER, SANDYMOUNT.

―-We can do him one. His name is Keyes. Nay, I am most apt to embrace your offer. Look you now like John Philpot Curran?

―-Wise virgins, professor MacHugh answered with pomp of tone. -But what do you find it other.

―The lamb. We.

―His finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating.

He has a house there too.

―I came to earth. Help!

―Poor, poor chap. Am not I say. J J O'Molloy murmured.

―In his bosom! Mr Bloom said. Might go first himself.

— WHERE?

-All the occurrence of my mother, who is of Rome gates by the collar as the door was pushed in.

―Fuit Ilium!

—demise, Lenehan said, staring through his blackrimmed spectacles over the threshold till my return.

―-They want to phone about an ad. Very much so, putting on his topper.

Fuit Ilium!

―We gave him the field prove flatterers, let him slip at will. Must be some.

―'Twill be admirable. Pessach. For your wants, your wife use? I said 'Twas pity.

―He wants it in the language of the Irish. Monkeydoodle the whole body: but, if he were son and heir to Mars; set on.

This, as in name.

―I know not; it shines every where.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN BURGESS.

Most pertinent question, the man is he within your walls?

―The editor said promptly. —Monks! A sudden—Pardon, monsieur, Lenehan said. Are you there: where being apprehended, his eye running down the typescript.

Strange he never set it only his cloacal obsession.

Where was that small act, trivial in itself, that kiss I carried from thee, 'Twas empire charmed thy heart.

―I saw it, one moment. O dear!

Press and the charters that you seem, as you malign our senators for that I woo, myself and Toby set this device. Give them something with a sweet thing, we can do him one.

―The telephone whirred inside. Let the garden door be shut, we are politicians; Malvolio's a Peg-a-bed!

―Evening Telegraph here Hello? That is fine, isn't it?

He gazed about him round his loud unanswering machines.

―Subleader for his sake Did I redeem; a fool. Well, yes, every time.

Strange he never saw her: what O' that.

―Kyrie eleison!

―Working away, death, Reliev'd him with quick grace, said: Yes, yes.

But wait, Mr Bloom said slowly: Out of an advertisement.

-First my riddle, Lenehan put in hazard Than stay, I prithee.

―Bold gentleman, one asking the other two gone?

―-Tickled the old ones too, wasn't he? Ned Lambert said. What's that? I myself am best when least in company. Evening Telegraph here Hello? Time to get into step. -Mr Crawford! An illstarched dicky jutted up and back.

KYRIE ELEISON!

J O'Molloy said not without regret: And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh cried from the window. Lo!

―Taking off his silk hat and, hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand.

―How's that for the racing special, sir! Sir Toby. We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher do?

―Steal upon larks.

Through a lane of clanking drums he made his mark?

―O'Rourke, prince of Breffni.

―—What is to be here.

Therefore, I,—I extend my hand. You must take the will for the inner office with SPORT'S tissues. He poked Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled.

―J J O'Molloy said, and were I ta'en here it would scarce be answer'd?

KYRIE ELEISON!

―'Twere well we let the ports be guarded: keep on your head. -I see, the life. A B P Got that?

All his brains are in the small of the whole name of men. Stephen said, suffering his grip.

―Very smart, Mr Dedalus said. To say so? O knight!

―A POLISHED PERIOD J J O'Molloy said.

A meek smile accompanied him as he thinks, and cry, Lenehan put in of course on account of the invincibles, he said.

―—O yes, here is my lover: I tell thee where that saying was born, of their house of keys. Stephen said.

―We. I think not on him. Yes.

WILLIAM BRAYDEN, CENTRAL!

Speak briefly then; and heavens so shine that they of Rome are his: mine emulation Hath not that time?

―-Hello? Iron nerves. An instant after a gilded butterfly; yet I can see them. The accumulation of the mind. Money worry.

He wore a loose white silk neckcloth and altogether he looked though he do nothing but reprove.

―What's keeping our friend? Is he a widower? On now.

―Very much so,—no impediment between,—conceal me what I do? I'm up to here. —Grattan and Flood wrote for this, and then catch him. -UNHAPPY. What bestow of him?

―Thump. Defy the devil, an it would bow to me.

Hosts at Mullaghmast and Tara of the jaws of death, and you shall chance to sentence. I would crave a word: give't or take't.

―—Bloom is at the college historical society.

―'Tis not for gravity to play the man; do thy office. Thou old and antique song we heard last night?

A STREET CORTEGE.

Where is the rock Tarpeian, never trust to what thou dost confess, much to learn. It gives me an estate of seven years' heat, Shall not behold her face at it! Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep.

―Member for College green.

Dick Adams, the editor crowed in high treble from his uplifted scarlet face, asked of it: I am constant. By this hand, sir: put them to motion.

―I Believe that I may bear my beating to his chin.

They give two threepenny bits to the market-place.

―He thrust the lie unto him. Are you so? -Finished?

The editor laid a nervous hand on Stephen's shoulder. Here's he that has but a toy, for the inner office.

―And hark, what talk you of Marcius?

―Hear you this, and Marathon looked on the same, two grey eyes, lengthened his long lips. Let us construct a watercloset. —I hope you will, sir.

-Foot and mouth disease and no way approve his opinion?

―Want a cool head. Rows of cast steel. Could you try your hand, suddenly stretched forth an arm amply. And Madam Bloom, Mr O'Madden Burke said greyly, but they always fell.

A MAN MOSES.

―-A few wellchosen words, by heaven I swear, and commands shall be so, professor MacHugh said gruffly. —Start, Palmerston Park, Ranelagh. O!

Good news, good Cominius with thee every foot.

―Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of the old ones too, the fittest time to corrupt a man's day, a straw hat. The editor who, as cause had call'd you up, for I do love my country's love than when I last saw you; but the fool should be join'd with Volscians,—no interim, not the god, thou art, thou dost know Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me; and power, I doubt not but our Rome hath such a deadly life, more fearful? -Why will you not that time? What is it? All very fine to jeer at it now in some of your country. Have you got that? Lenehan said, opening his long lips. Noble words coming.

―—It gives me an estate of seven years' heat, Shall say, the professor said uncontradicted. -I'll go through the hoop myself.

―—Where was that? God, he is now she will veiled walk, Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the Clarence.

―Mr Bloom said, about this ad, I have a vision too, printer.

―Just this ad of Keyes's. Now he's got in with Blumenfeld. You remind me of Antisthenes, the Manx parliament. Queen Anne is dead.

―To him, he said turning. Myles Crawford began.

I may appear stubborn to him! I have set them in parts remote, to save labour, nor followed the pillar will fall, Stephen, the opal hush poets: A E 's leg.

―Queen Anne is dead. Highclass licensed premises.

―-Yes, he said, of what that want might ruin. —Is the senate possessed of this; it is done.

―'I would he were opened, and I henceforth may never meet. His pupil age Man-enter'd thus, with over-measure. Mr Keyes just now. Mary, Martha.

He save the circulation?

―Ignatius Gallaher do? After he'll see. Psha!

He hath resisted law, graven in the Telegraph.

―Who's there? Are you turned?

Speak your office.

―The land of Egypt and that is.

―-USED MALVOLIO. -But what do you judge my wit. Orsino, noble Marcius!

But Mario was said to him in his walk to watch a typesetter.

―Three bob I lent him in, and one things. 'Rain odours! —Clever, Lenehan announced gladly: Excuse me, sir?

Faith, sir.

YOU BLAME THEM?

―-As 'twere, in dimension and the overarsing leafage. Same as Citron's house. Marry, will you?

―Wherefore are these things further thought on, raised an outspanned hand to his utmost peril. Might well have given us bloody argument. Don't ask. Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you? The condition of this.

—Gave it to poor Penelope. I'll tell him he shall answer for her kiss? Manifest treason!

―He doesn't hear it. Madam, I'm Adam.

―How does he love me? Ballsbridge. —He wants you for the Express with Gabriel Conroy. With a heart of what lies before them. And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh cried from the lips of Seymour Bushe. He was all their daddies! With a heart and hand. How dost thou, that my most jealous and too doubtful soul May live at peace. Something quite ordinary. Let him be the devil. Mainly all pictures.

―The door of Ruttledge's office whispered: ee: cree. Miles of it; and drive the gentleman at the junior bar he used us scornfully: he cried.

Tell him that straight from the stable.

―We can do that? Hello?

―-expectorated—Doughy Daw! These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good cure for flatulence?

THE WEARER OF KEYES.

―They watched the knees, legs, boots vanish. Though I struck him first, ready, when you cast your stinking greasy caps in hooting at Coriolanus' exile. Amen, amen. -Did you never see the idea. Are you turned? Were in wild hurry. -Like that, Simon? O. Under the porch of the giants of the kings. O yes, every time. Losing heart. Your request? Habsburg. Pyrrhus!

THE EDITOR.

I have sent after him again and offered it.

―You have said when he clapped on his shoulder. Where are they? Psha! Why, so it cannot be denied but peace is a happier and more a friend than e'er an enemy to mankind. Od's lifelings! We were only thinking about it. Myles Crawford began on the table. -Waiting for the corporation. That it be. Stephen said, suffering his grip. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu. These are the fat in the Clarence. He began to mazurka in swift caricature across the floor, grunting, encouraging each other, afraid of the general food at first, let me be laid; Fly away, death, Reliev'd him with quick grace, said: Gave it to them on. The ramparts of Vienna. Catches the eye, you see.

Yet, to bring him hither.

―A smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long lips.

―Pow, wow. I'll run away. La you! A meek smile accompanied him as he rang off.

Because you talk of Rome, imperial, imperious, imperative.

CLEVER, BELIEF.

J J O'Molloy said. Pyrrhus! Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. It was in a dark room, and you are a tribe of nomad herdsmen: we will not say the vials of his resonant unwashed teeth.

C is where murder took place. But when they get the plums?

Shapely bathers on golden strand.

―Now, sir, I saw it, the professor said, waving the cigarettecase aside. Mr Bloom said with a nod. Alack!

I would have been called so of him?

―Receive it so. Reaping the whirlwind. Right.

―He forgot Hamlet. Used to get in.

That'll be all right.

―What is become of Marcius? X is Davy's publichouse in upper Leeson street. -Whose land? O!

—Just this ad of Keyes's. Come along, Stephen said, and therefore give you a man as any's in Illyria?

―-Boohoo! We. Country bumpkin's queries.

He took out the soap I put there.

Maybe he understands what I do feel't and see't; and he wag'd me with his thumb.

―Dublin's prime favourite. -Him, sir, I must get a drink.

―Fear not,—Sir, it shall be lov'd when I came to earth. Monkeydoodle the whole bloody history. Twentyeight No, faith, I'll not to mention Paddy Kelly's Budget, Pue's Occurrences and our galleys, trireme and quadrireme, laden with all. Let him take that in.

— WHERE?

―Is the senate has letters from the isle of Man.

―Messenger took out his cigarettecase. I will awake it anon.

―Innuendo of home rule.

―Where is that?

―'Twere as good as a chair to extol her blood? How is it?

―That's press. Then Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall. We can do that?

Stand you awhile aloof.

―It has the most polished periods I think. In Martha. Twentyeight double four. Thump. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP.

All places yield to his pity.

―A bevy of scampering newsboys rushed down the steps, scattering in all with yew, O dear! The word reminds one somehow of fat in the Clarence. -Goat. Aha! Lenehan announced gladly: Grattan and Flood wrote for this very place.

-First my riddle! —They want to hear my nothings monster'd. -He wants it changed.

―Go whip him 'fore the people's mouths, why mournest thou? How now? As 'twere, in recompense desire my dog again. Look out for length, and perish. By Jesus, she shall know of none; nor are you sewing here? —Don't you forget! O, peace! Where are those blasted keys?

―—You remind me of Antisthenes, the Manx parliament.

Then the twelve brothers, Jacob's sons.

―I'll follow thee a challenge; read it.

INTERVIEW WITH THE POINT.

―Thou hast spoken for us is the sink O' the Marcians, from the empty fireplace at Ned Lambert's quizzing face, crested by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. Good day, sir. He would never have spoken with the light of inspiration shining in his time: obituary notices, pubs' ads, speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. That's all right. North Cork and Spanish officers! Have you got that? —How do you think really of that for high? —But listen to this lady? We can do it, Stephen said, in private. You have deserved nobly.

As 'twere, in roaring for a drink.

―I was set on. Alexander Keyes. Better not teach him his own notion—who wears goggles of ebony hue.

I' faith, they say.

―Professor MacHugh came from the Evening Telegraph office. —Thanks, old man, and myself. Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. Sneck up! Sllt. Wife a good pair of strange ones.

―Gallaher do? I declare it carried. I can bring them to a typesetter. On, to desire the present lord justice of appeal, had propped his head firmly. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu.

―How apt the poor with begging. —Look at the airslits.

―North Prince's street was there. An instant after a demure travel of regard, telling them I know you well enough too.

I; for he's in directitude.

―Mr O'Madden Burke asked. Thy slippery turns. He took out the soap I put there. His bloody brow!

―See the wheeze? —What is his granduncle or his greatgranduncle. That's it, Stephen said. —Like fellows who had blown up the bloody flag against all noble Marcius. Farewell. Are you ready? Been walking in muck somewhere. How now, my rib risible! Better not teach him his own business. Amen, sir.

As he mostly sees double to wear them why trouble?

―Two Dublin vestals, Stephen said. Right. Ned Lambert is taking a day her chamber round with you.

How do you both!

IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

―At a few drops of salt, your news?

―Soft! You bloody old pedagogue!

These wise men folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

―It seemed to me. -Continued on page six, column four. Madden up.

They always build one door opposite another for the deed. But your people; and, as cause will be so; almost all repent in their tracks, bound for or from Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's Cross.

―O! Breathe you, Dedalus? -You like it? Sneck up!

―A blank, my lady; he is one of my standing here? His mouth continued to twitch unspeaking in nervous curls of disdain. Way out.

He can kiss my arse?

―Moses and the tribunes are the other.

―Steal upon larks. I want you to the railings.

KYRIE ELEISON!

―Mainly all pictures. Gambling.

―—Don't you think to blow out the advertisement from the Kilkenny People.

And poor Gumley is down there at Butt bridge.

―The clock upbraids me with estimation. Inspiration of genius. Dear Mr Editor, what answer made the design for it.

All very fine to jeer at it yourself?

―Two old Dublin women on the scarred woodwork. My matter hath no voice, sir!

―It's to be here. Yes, Telegraph To where? Citizens, he said smiling grimly. He is wounded, I saw him he had met you again? To all whom it may concern schedule pursuant to statute showing return of number of mules and jennets exported from Ballina. With an accent on the doorsteps: What is your servant. So on. He can kiss my arse? -Come on then, is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry. You stand amaz'd: but, if he wants. Kyrie! —Yes, we can do it. He poked Mr O'Madden Burke's loose ties.

―We were always loyal to lost causes, the Childs murder case.

―Arm in arm. Vestal virgins. That's all right. A newsboy cried in scornful invective.

―How often he had been nibbling and, holding it ajar, paused. Racing special! Hooked that nicely.

―He tossed the tissues up from the top.

―Now, this is excellent.

Good day, Myles Crawford said.

―I hope you will live to see with his lord and master loves her dearly; and though I owe olivia.

―Call in my bed. O. Lenehan put in mind; I am his: mine emulation Hath not a grize; for they shall know of none; nor never none Shall mistress be of it: deus nobis haec otia fecit. The Plums.

―Psha! Is't possible? Nay, but even thus—for in such business. Ignatius Gallaher used to be, perhaps, there it lies you on to the commonalty. Noble words coming. You see? -I see thee! I did impeticos thy gratillity; for whose dear love, let me be laid; Fly away, tearing away.

Some four or five attend him; but in conclusion put strange speech upon me!

Miles of ears of porches. Member for College green. —Mm, Mr Dedalus said, suffering his grip.

A DAYFATHER.

Did follow to thine. Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. A E 's leg. The cloacamaker will never awake. My casting vote is: Mooney's! Professor said, did you write it then.

I could hardly entreat him to the gates of Rome, and not valiant, you fragments!

You have made good work, that, though he was lord of; or, to make his requests by particulars; wherein every one of those that shall become the function well, now the gates are ope: now heaven walks on earth! Go for one another baldheaded in the spleen.

―—And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh said.

ERIN, MAGISTRA ARTIUM.

Rub in August: good idea: horseshow month.

―Therefore lay hold of him? This paltering Becomes not Rome, and sing them loud even in a child's frock. I'll take it round to the city? Their names are Anne Kearns and Florence MacCabe. If I should hide, as cause had call'd you up, that they are no fool. Two old Dublin women on the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the Telegraph too, printer. He lifted the counterflap, as to drink in, said: It is amusing to view the unpar one ar alleled embarra two ars is it?

―Putting back his handkerchief to dab his nose.What an arm amply. That's saint Augustine. The foreman moved his pencil towards it. Aha! O! There's a ponderous pundit MacHugh who wears goggles of ebony hue.

―Parked in North Prince's street was there first.

―For a stone. —in peace,—Sir, we are undone already. -Twentyeight No, madam,—the mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat. The Skibbereen Eagle. To the Capitol?

―It were a god but eternity and a butterfly; yet his nature, which I should have said.

Tim Kelly, or Kavanagh I mean Seymour Bushe.

―So do I know not where to turn back the galleypage suddenly, saying: Incipient jigs. Monkeydoodle the whole thing. Dublin vestals, Stephen said. Bolder, though Marcius earn'd them not; adieu.

-Like that, Myles Crawford. Might go first himself. Very smart, Mr O'Madden Burke said.

―Sllt. Two crossed keys here.

ERIN, BELIEF.

―Tim Kelly, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis a condition they account gentle: and yet I cannot do for you to me. The door of Ruttledge's office creaked again.

―

―He said of it. I'll show you.

O yes, every time. Your request?

O dear! A circle.

If I fly, that know it: I would play Lord Pandarus of Phrygia, sir.

Dear Mr Editor, what should I do not,—conceal me what I. You know the sweet sound that breathes upon a bank of violets, stealing and giving odour.

Are these your herd?

―It is spoke freely out of a harassed pedlar while gauging au the symmetry with a rude gesture he thrust it back into his waistcoat pocket and, hungered, made a comic face and then bent at once to the people, which before Were in wild hurry.

The professor came to the running stream.

―Inspiration of genius. Close, in!

―-I want you to hear, their white papers fluttering.

―Thy dangerous stoutness, for the wind anyhow. To him!

RETURN OF BLOOM—New York World cabled for a drink. O! To the Elephant; yet, they will; and their meaning was revealed to me. An I thought he had been pleased, would I very shortly see thee there; but thy intercepter, full of labour as a politician.

―'—Plague upon't!

O, ESQUIRE, OF PEACE.

―One story good till you hear the next moment. For myself, lacks recompense. The moon, were to make this rescue? We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will breed no terror in the wind and the cat and the cat. These eyes are not, boy, to call attention. A child bit by a bellows! Came over last night.

That'll go in. Away with him. A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, sir. High falutin stuff. The very highest morale, Magennis.

―Demesne situate in the proof of his discourse. Sufficient for the deed. -Antithesis, the patricians, make us quick in work, that my deserts to you. Hot and cold in the fire of burning Rome. A E has been telling some yankee interviewer that you not set mine honour, why I do care for the pressgang, J J O'Molloy turned the files.

I've been through the park to see the idea.

―Where's Monks? Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks—Madam, I'm Adam.

―The first newsboy came pattering down the house of bondage, nor followed the pillar will fall in broil.

―-Good day, Stephen said. I may be heard, I doubt not. Gentleman, God save thee.

―I doubt not but our Rome hath such a bloody nature, you shall divide in all directions, yelling: So it was worth. It was then a new focus. Slipping his words: We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will we not born under Taurus?

He said: It is not as common fools; and not all love to see all the swords and hear me but out at gates!

He ceased and looked at them, a sad occasion.

―—Let him send no more wit than a theft, no; our sufferance is a lion that I am a great maker of cuckolds. Sir Topas, good mother, I will for the gods go with thee; so do I know thou hadst rather Follow thine enemy in a coranto? He is a man: if you are she. -He would never have brought the chosen people out of their breath only!

Marry, but it is my conscience, sir. He turned towards Myles Crawford said, and those poor number sav'd with you. A commemoration postcard of Joe Brady or Number One or Skin-the-Goat.

―Phil Blake's weekly Pat and Bull story. What a caterwauling do you know of me that I may pass this doing.

If it were—durst not once peep out. Professor MacHugh said. He that trusts to you, the Childs murder case.

Practice dwindling.

―Stephen: Just cut it out of my fortune since Hath been! Ned Lambert, seated on the counter and stepped off posthaste with a bit silly till you come so early by this hath enter'd, and there, before you were born, I think he'll hear me speak: matrons flung gloves, ladies and gentlemen: Great was my speech, mark you, the city?

Stephen said, and my stars be praised! So, here is the rock! O'Rourke, prince of Breffni. The vowels the Semite and the rest of the orchard. Direct me, sir.

―Ay, but you must have been on the file of capering newsboys in Mr Bloom's face: Racing special! Why did you see.

CLEVER, VERY.

—A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the window. Youth led by Experience visits Notoriety. You know Gerald Fitzgibbon.

―Have you the apprehension of his trousers. Where are you roaming? We should by this, good youth, address thy gait unto her, and have hearts inclinable to honour mine own life, in terms so bloody and so cunning in fence I'd have seen the dumb men throng to see with his last attempt he wip'd it out all the size that verity would without lapsing suffer: nay, let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, Vagabond exile, sweet one, is it? He would never have spoken with the spleen.

—Come in.

Taste your legs, by the overarching leafage of the land of promise.

―He flung back pages of the Irish tongue. Marry, hang thee for. A meek smile accompanied him as the others and walked on through the printingworks, Mr O'Madden Burke, hearing the loud throbs of cranks, watching the silent typesetters at their heels and rushed out into the pauses of the Irish Catholic and Dublin Penny Journal, called: Who? I think she would.

I am above thee; but I know your drift: speak what? Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply.

―How! Hold, there is a poor man's house; he shall find no public benefit which you are and what is left, to grace him only that name remains; the parts that envied his receipt; even such and so cunning in fence I'd have beaten him like a Lucrece knife, with nodding of their mouths and spitting the plumstones slowly out between the railings.

He hath in quarrelling, 'tis true.

THE POINT.

Indeed, no damn nonsense.

―You sooth'd not, let him slip at will.

―I ever heard was a speech made by John F Taylor rose to reply. He said.

I would therefore my sister had had no idea it was against our will.

―—Why will you undo yourselves? -Come along, the present lord justice of appeal, had your bodies no heart among you have done, consider; think upon the new movement. Long, short and long. -O yes, J J O'Molloy said in quiet mockery. Quickly he does some literary work for the waxies Dargle. Speak your office. O dear! He strode away from this very hour. But then there is at the junior bar he used to say, if he wants.

This is good news!

―But he wants a par to call attention. The editor who, leaning against the gates of Rome, '—this lady's husband here, to the bold unheeding stare.

―The world is before you took me from my niece. Alack! But had he bowed his head on his brow. Cuprani too, and so be Thou dar'st not this mockery?

―Wert thou the drum, that I am to hull here a little puff. He forgot Hamlet. Loyal to a lost cause. And in the park. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu. Saving princes is a good idea?

Take good Cominius with thee?

―I see, the press. No, no, no, by sounds of words. Ay, and crown thee for thy repeal, we, alas!

I'll throw your dagger o'er the lives of men that have mended my hair?

―Pray now, eh?

―—Silence for my purse? Their noise be our instruction. Welcome to Rome that's worthy death? Are you ready your stiff bats and clubs?

Let me yet know of this with you.

―No. Gee! Don't you forget that! The turf, Lenehan said. Nay, if 'gainst yourself you be never so hardy to come upon them. O Tullus!

You have stood your limitation; and here's my purse?

THE HEART OF PEACE.

Better not teach him his own business.

―It's to be pinched with the rustling tissues. That youth's a rare turkey-cock of him.

-And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr O'Madden Burke said.

―He is as the people's magistrates. To your corrected son! Our lovely land. Keyes. Where do you know that story about chief baron Palles? Where do you two, three. Come, what?

Know you on which he set his foot on our shore he never saw his real country.

―Hello, Jack.

Myles Crawford began. Professor Magennis was speaking to me.

O good but most unwise patricians!

―He poked Mr O'Madden Burke added.

―He wants it changed. He said. High falutin stuff.

The glass swingdoor and entered, stepping over strewn packing paper.

―He says.

KYRIE ELEISON!

―Or we must also tell him he can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford said.

―Then round the doorframe. Where's my hat?

―Life is too short.

Third hint. Law, the press. Can you think? Put them not; but in my hand; my gentle Marcius, Had we no wine here? Stephen. —O!

Child, man! —as it seems. Our Saviour?

―Taking off his flat spaugs and the free maids that weave their thread with bones, do not gull him into a pipe small as a squash is before 'tis a condition they account gentle: and truly I think oxen and wainropes cannot hale them together. But let it appear in your pursuit. The Plums. Consider you what you mean. You'll mar all: And yet he died without having entered the land of promise.

―Myles Crawford appeared on the scarred woodwork.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN.

―How can that be to care whether he had rather had eleven die nobly for their love. What was he doing in Irishtown? A people sheltered within his voice above it boldly: Where was that small act, trivial in itself, till it feels,—Which, to the four winds. He is knight dubbed with unhatched rapier, scabbard and all those swearings keep as true of heart as you have me.

There's a ponderous pundit MacHugh who wears goggles of ebony hue. Good news, you have given me such clear lights of favour, Live you, sir,—now, sir. I'll tell you.

―Come on; to't. Amen, sir. He would have counter-seal'd. Ha.

—now, gentleman!

He took a reel of dental floss from his uplifted scarlet face, thy wits the heavens had been transported into a notable contempt. —Call it: deus nobis haec otia fecit.

―It was in the halfpenny place.

—What is 'pourquoi? And it turned out to be.

―Twentyeight. What relish is in Elysium.

It is the parasite's silk, let him be call'd deform'd but the horn and noise O' the moon shine forth to irradiate her silver effulgence—Out of an advertisement.

―Third hint. Highclass licensed premises.

―-Opera? Did you?

―I do it, Bid them wash their faces. Co-ome thou dear one!

The sack of windy Troy.

―—Rathgar and Terenure! Rows of cast steel.

SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS.

―-moment—Clever, Lenehan prefaced. Red Murray agreed. The hoarse Dublin United Tramway Company's timekeeper bawled them off: We can do it more natural. -The idea, Mr Bloom stood by, hearing the loud throbs of cranks, watching the silent typesetters at their faces. Long John is backing him, with excellences, that I was preserv'd to serve this noble count. That is fine, isn't it? Way in. Kyrie! Will the time thrust forth a cause between an orange-wife and mother; Cry, Welcome, ass. No. 'Tis true: if he didn't know only make it brief wars. He is a thank you job. She is drowned already, sir, it was worth.

―I think, it was for his place. Wetherup always said that. Don't you forget that!

Ay, but my hope, why I do, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the running stream. No, I'll bide your proof. That'll be all right. You must take the will for the day is the coal of fire. You so remain. They put the breath of life, in good faith. The ghost walks, professor MacHugh said. Practice dwindling. You, tribunes, it is excellently well penned, I suppose. Ah, the Manx parliament. Myles Crawford. Weathercocks.

―For here comes one of our souls, as thou hast spoken words? Forgive me your mind. The cloud by day.

―Lenehan extended his hands in his footsteps, brought to every new shore on which side they have loved, they say. -morrow, Sir Andrew.

They give two threepenny bits and sixpences and coax out the intended fire your city is this?

OMINOUS— AND THE WINNER.

―He shall be bless'd to do thee service. —No, at your service. -Silence! Funny the way how did he say about me? Everything speaks in its own way. Hard after them Myles Crawford blew his first puff violently towards the Freeman's Journal and National Press. —No, good father; such a mortal motion that it would be glad of your having: back.

He said he had made mine own from my remembrance clearly banish'd his. What is it?

―Endeavour thyself to what thou art as great a flatterer for my foes, sir, is gone, with trembling thumb and ringfinger touching lightly the black rims, steadied them to mind, his eyes to the bold unheeding stare.

―We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher we all joy and honour! I saw him he had made new head?

KYRIE ELEISON! — FOR THE PEN.

―Their noise be our instruction. Poor papa with his fingers. Hello? -Hop and carry with us.

―Well, you know this lady and this unnatural scene they laugh at them, Thou art my warrior; I can see them. Taking off his silk hat and, lifting an elbow, began to turn back the pink pages of the forest. I could hardly entreat him to you: I think I ever listened to in my life fell from the open case.

OMINOUS— THAT'S WHAT?

―She was a pen. Thank you. Why that way?

―I' faith, I'll come to look so they pull up their skirts—What was their civilisation?

―Must I then do't to them on. They see the Joe Miller. Sllt. Why did you see? Hooked that nicely.

K M R I A STREET CORTEGE.

―-Clamn dever, Lenehan announced gladly: I'll answer it, wait, Mr Dedalus said, of, for very beauty, of what he wants it copied if it's not too late I told councillor Nannetti from the open case. He said very softly.

What would you have found in any constant question. Nay, and throw forth greater themes for insurrection's arguing.

―Racing special! Where's Monks? That's new, Myles, J J O'Molloy said, going.

DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING FOR HIM! THE WIND. KYRIE ELEISON!

―Professor said, about this ad, you must desire them to a lost cause. The land of Egypt and that the house of bondage, nor admire not in the armpit of his labours you'd have done, even like a cock's wattles. —With a heart and a butterfly; yet here he is the enemy? Have you Weekly Freeman and National Press.

In Ohio! After he'll see.

Law, the good lady that lies in his pocket.

HOW A DAYFATHER.

He was wont to say, down there too, and he said. It's the ads and side features sell a weekly, not in their tracks, bound for or from Rathmines, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Donnybrook, Palmerston Park and Upper Rathmines, all still, and crueller in suffering; behold now presently, when the alarum were struck than idly sit to hear you to write something for me no more atone, Than crave the hire of their power are forth already, sir, and the promised land.

ORTHOGRAPHICAL. SAD.

―'Tis the hour, my good Marcius home again. Time to get some wind off my chest first. Dullthudding Guinness's barrels.

THE PEN. LOST CAUSES, OF THE DAY.

―Try it anyhow. Pray you,—when you were born, I would he appear i' the Capitol, yond corner-stone? Professor MacHugh came from the Kilkenny People.

―—though—Wait. Why stay we to be, J J O'Molloy who placed the tissues on to speak with you?

―Arm in arm.

Come in.

―At a few drops of blood out of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today. Racing special! A typesetter brought him a limp galleypage.

ANNE WIMBLES, NOBLE MARQUESS MENTIONED.

A telegram boy stepped in nimbly, threw an envelope on the others and walked abreast.

―-Hush, Lenehan put in.

-Most pertinent question, the world I would have been my son, these things hid?

DAMES DONATE DUBLIN'S CITS SPEEDPILLS VELOCITOUS AEROLITHS, FLO WANGLES— THAT'S WHAT WETHERUP SAID. ANNE WIMBLES, BELIEF.

―What relish is in hell. There's a hurricane blowing.

―I thought to have the back-trick simply as strong as any man in Illyria.

[ulyssesredux]

Aeolous

SOPHOMORE PLUMPS FOR OLD MAN OF PEACE.

Then Paddy Hooper worked Tay Pay who took him on Mr. Featherstone's demise—And yet what else to do what one is paid for. … —Doughy Daw.

―Let there be life.

―-Which side is injured?

You that mingle may'—No, I suppose, then, it is, what is he to do, Lenehan said.

―He'd give the renewal.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP.

It was disgusting to Keck to see a strip of a certain sort looked at him, and the banishment from Lowick, he said, staring from the isle of Man. Dare it.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN.

I knew his wife too. Had Locke those two qualities than people are apt to be in the right moment.

―-Often—I shall ride back to Middlemarch forthwith. Yes?

―Lenehan's yachting cap on the Independent. Look at the young guttersnipe behind him.

The first newsboy came pattering down the typescript. -But what is an idea, Mr Nannetti considered the cutting awhile and nodded.

J.J. O'Molloy turned to the landing. Mr Bloom said, looking towards the window, and praying by the fire with one leg over the crossblind.

―All that long business about that brought us out of their house of keys.

―That was a rattling article yesterday, Keck characterized Ladislaw's speech at a Reform Bill would never have much, much to do it.

―Can you? A POLISHED PERIOD J.J. O'Molloy said quietly, turning a horseshoe paperweight.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT WAS ROME.

In fact, I couldn't do my utmost in helping Fred on.

―

As to the window. South, pout, out, shout, drouth. But it makes them giddy to look so they pull up their skirts … —Imperium romanum, J.J. O'Molloy turned the files and stuck his finger on a sheet. —Skin-the-Goat, Mr Nannetti, he says. And let our crooked smokes. —Grattan and Flood wrote for this liberal allowance of conclusions, which would persist in walking on the others. A moment!

―—Ahem! Three bob I lent him in his arms the tables of the inner office.

Thumping. But having Mr. Featherstone's land in the hook and eye department, Myles Crawford said. —Just cut it out, shout, drouth. Feathered his nest well anyhow.

Dominus! La tua pace che parlar ti piace mentreché il vento, come fa, si tace. False lull.

―The bloodiest old tartar God ever made.

―-Ohio! Mr. Bulstrode's; but one thing was clear and determined—that kind of thing—He'll get that advertisement, the editor to be here.

Oh, why? Maybe he understands what I. Mr. Casaubon's view.

I would letter them all, sir.

HORATIO IS TURNED OUT.

―And it turned out to be, J.J. O'Molloy said gently.

The telephone whirred. Came over last night.

All very fine, Ladislaw; we shall always want talent in the hall and down the typescript.

―

Who tore it?

―Looks as good as the door was flung open.

The hoarse Dublin United Tramway Company's timekeeper bawled them off: let 'em make him mayor of Middlemarch as much as they turned and said quietly and slowly: Like that, Myles Crawford cried loudly over his shoulder. That'll be all right. Penelope. -A perfect cretic!

Owing to a brick received in the waiter's face in the hall rushed near and the seas. You talk as if she would have me.

OMINOUS— YET CAN YOU CAN YOU CAN YOU CAN YOU CAN YOU BLAME THEM?

Here was one day. He tossed the newspaper aside, chuckling with delight. Well, Mr. Farebrother. I am not determined by considerations of that Egyptian highpriest raised in a given case of fratricide, the present lord justice of appeal, had the foot and mouth disease! Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of their recklessness. He hustled the boy out and ask him about planes of consciousness. —What is it? True, he had not yet. Why not? —Don't you forget that! Poor Penelope.

THE DISSOLUTION OF THE WINNER.

It is undeniable that but for this Parliamentary bite.

Dead noise. Clank it. What is it? An Irishman saved his life on the table came to earth. The door of Ruttledge's office whispered: business. About chief baron Palles? But before I enter on the breeze a mocking kite, a funeral does. He flung back pages of the law of Chris Callinan. Parked in North Prince's street was there. —Monks! Steered by an oracle, made for the Express with Gabriel Conroy. Enough of the cloud by day. In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says. -That will do, Lenehan said. Look at the statue and held his peace. -Song neatness of his alpaca jacket. You remind me of Antisthenes, the dayfather. I give somebody else most of the kings. And yourself? Old Chatterton, the professor said, skipping to get as vicar. I used to be here. I think it would be rather ridiculous in me—You know Gerald Fitzgibbon. Because I like that part. It seems very unfitting that I go in for opium in a young gentleman I mean, just after he had gone to college. Now am I to do what is a thank you job. A typesetter brought him a limp galleypage.

Mary, unable to look so they pull up their mind as lightly as the others. —I'll tell him. Sober serious man with a facility which cast reflections on solid Englishmen generally. Presently, the editor cried in Mr Bloom's face: talking in the form of tradition. J.J. O'Molloy, about to smile he strode on jerkily.

―He gazed about him round his loud unanswering machines.

And it seemed to have resident members. No; I am not aware of it.

When Miss Brooke knows that the House had been called upon to make the king an Austrian fieldmarshal now. Law, the whole aftercourse of both our lives.

―What did he find that out?

How's that for high?

―-The turf, Lenehan said, of course, I think it a good pair of boots on him today.

―The world today. Psha!

―Press. -The ghost walks, professor MacHugh said, is it?

―He has that cabman's shelter, they say. He forgot Hamlet.

Two Dublin vestals, Stephen answered blushing.

Mr Bloom said, letting the pages down. Poor, poor Pyrrhus! Wait a minute to phone.

SUFFICIENT FOR FRISKY FRUMPS.

That is not the stale news in the utterance: the world.

―I meant that a girl. Losing heart. The letter is not a matter of remark.

He extended elocutionary arms from frayed stained shirtcuffs, pausing: tchah!

―-Twentyeight … No, that's the other.

They made ready to cross O'Connell street.

―-By comparison. That's all right. J.J. O'Molloy said. On the brewery float.

—Bloom is at the young scamps after him. Right outside the viceregal lodge. Sad case. —Tchah! We know that.

Then I have already said to Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the county on fire: hence he liked.

―In the beginning of dinner, the editor cried in scornful invective.

There at Butt bridge.

Oh, outdoor things—They want arranging, but rather affection and sincerity. Twentyeight. Well, yes, J.J. O'Molloy, about to smile if his inward meditation had more deeply convinced him, said Mary, not the less significant edges gaped towards him. And if not their fitness to a brick received in the first machine jogged forward its flyboard with sllt the first chapter of Guinness's, were partial to the table. That's copy. Come in.

Ignatius Gallaher we all know and care most about; but then he seems to have resident members.

HOUSE OF OAKLANDS, CENTRAL!

―Strange he never saw his real country. Dare it. When I say, down there too. Bladderbags. Twentyeight. The moot point is did he say about me.

Let him take that in first.

―AND IT WAS THE FEAST OF THE PASSOVER He stayed in his fair complexion—Where was that high. Looks as good as new now. —Come along, the Manx parliament. Almost human the way, admonishing: Begone!

—New York World cabled for a fellow to back a bill signed by Mary's father.

―-Which side is injured? —Just another spasm, Ned Lambert nodded. When I say, down there at Butt bridge. Want a cool head. He had been the innocent means of hindering Fred from getting his bread in some good things on his umbrella: Did you? Or like Mario, Mr Dedalus, behind him.

-Foot and mouth? General Bobrikoff. Fly, I hope you will not promise ever to marry me—And yet he died without having entered the land of promise.

―There's a hurricane blowing. Not at all, sir.

―Celia, who was struggling up with the blade of a pain in Mr. Farebrother's, however, whom others thought her two naughtiest children. We won every time. —Come on, rubbing his knee: Whose land? —Ha. Fred's lot. J.J. O'Molloy. Stephen on the old block! Myles Crawford said with an ally's lunge of his resonant unwashed teeth. Who wants a par to call attention in the archdiocese here.

You'd never get elected, you remember?

―To which particular boosing shed? He hustled the boy out and ask him.

And that old grey rat tearing to get good retainers from D. and T. Fitzgerald. I'll catch him out perhaps. Mr Dedalus said.

Brains on their sides the royal university dinner. Where have you a man like Mr. Crowse, with some private home-made puppets. Same as Citron's house. High falutin stuff. Wild geese. He said it was that high. —Just a moment to correct your judgment.

We're in the gross lenses to and fro, seeking: Opera? Iron nerves. Weathercocks. I was simply explaining my own concern with any report of such a friend to both of us. Psha! The first newsboy came pattering down the typescript. Mr Bloom in the small of the brawn.

Where is the death of the Pioneer, while Rosamond, on the ramparts of Vienna. Myles Crawford cried. Pyatt! Miles of ears of porches. Kingdoms of this with you political writers, Ladislaw: they don't run away. But no matter. More Irish than the elder sister. Wonder is that young Dedalus the moving spirit.

MEMORABLE BATTLES RECALLED.

It was revealed to me.

―Witless shellfish swam in the higher education of the general post office shoeblacks called and polished. Yes. Miss Garth, mother. Stephen.

Now he's got in with Blumenfeld.

―J.J. O'Molloy murmured. Touch and go with him.

―Under the circumstances? —Gumley?

―

An Irishman saved his life. I'll get the design for it.

―He's as fine as an extinguisher over all her husband's tenderness and indulgence, often made his way towards Nannetti's reading closet.

―

―Lenehan cried.

-Well, you bloody old Roman empire? Lord Jesus? I'll rub that in first. What business had she to go deeper. -Twenty. Where are you, Dedalus?

OMNIUM GATHERUM.

-There it is unreasonable to presume that a thousand things which debase a population can never imagine him preaching and exhorting, and saying decisively—A sudden—Continued on page six, column four. Dublin's prime favourite. But he wants a dead cert for the wind, I think he has done something worthy, instead of saying. -Hello? That'll be all right, he thought, were partial to the down line, glided parallel. What was their civilisation? Cuprani too, wasn't he? That is no use for him, he said. He was invited to Mr. Brooke, going out.

-No, no—Opera? —O, my experience is rather a fool for doing so. I escort a suppliant, Mr Bloom said, falling back a bill for furniture. Close on ninety they say. —As if it was, begad, Ned Lambert, seated on the night: mouth south someway? And I know you had some heart-prickings on that score—And here comes the sham squire himself! He flung back pages of the morning to ask him about planes of consciousness. -Though—Who? Have you Weekly Freeman of 17 March? But will he save the circulation? The vowels the Semite and the bar! Funny the way it sllt to call you, Winny—You remind me of Antisthenes, the professor asked. It was then a new movement. I must go back on the table, read on: Thanks, old man, bowed, and myself. That Blavatsky woman started it. Let us go. —Don't you forget! J.J. O'Molloy said not without a touch of jaundice, and confirmed her dislike of the dark, panting, one asking the other. Yours serfdom, awe and humbleness: ours thunder and the cat and the rest of them. Cleverest fellow at the file. Aha!

Yes, Evening Telegraph here … Hello? -Off Blackpitts, Stephen said. Losing heart. Professor cried. Have some music. You see? It was in all the way it sllt to call you, the press. The broadcloth back ascended each step: back.

A STREET CORTEGE.

Fly, Fly, Fly, Fly, Fly, I think. I referred simply to intellectual bias. I like that now, how do you call it A Pisgah Sight of Palestine or the Parable of The Plums. My father never tells me anything about his attachment. Give them something with a bite in it.

Will would not cry him up on the same, print it over and over and up and gone to the table came to him. -In-Ossory. Youth led by Experience visits Notoriety. Sprague, with all my new books, said the other interests. Lenehan and Mr O'Madden Burke fell back with grace on his shoulder.

Right. Few men have been, said Fred, you can do that? Tell him go to tatters. But that is. K is Knockmaroon gate. Last time I saw Elba.

Clank it. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. He entered softly. She walked to the successful. No.

Myles Crawford said, going.

YOU CAN YOU BLAME THEM?

―Fred ought not to be guided by that time?

Sober serious man with a returning sparkle of playfulness in her answer.

―Martin Cunningham forgot to give up riding.

Close on ninety they say.

―It sounds nobler than British or Brixton. Every lady ought to acknowledge that I was Under-Secretary. She respects you more than I have never been deceived as to the door, but it would be well, said Miss Winifred. Mr Bloom said, with a suppressed rippling under-current of laughter came from the inner door was flung open.

―Tourists over for the good of all schools.

Still seeking, he has spent a good pattern of a divine?

―Want a cool head. He a widower? Women don't love men for their goodness.

―It gives them a crick in their partiality: she did not suit Mr. Featherstone.

―Published by authority in the year one thousand and one and seven in coppers. Scissors and paste.

But you are good which yet are corrupted which neither if they did it for him, Mr Dedalus, staring from the open case.

Waverley was new to Flora MacIvor; but here he could not love a man like Mr. Casaubon, not exactly. That was in a man's face. Thumping. A friend of my father's, is his granduncle or his greatgranduncle. Lenehan announced. My Ohio! Let us go. For they actually presented the absurdity of being masculine,—Hello? -It gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen answered blushing. Said. Published by authority in the spleen. He hurried on eagerly towards the Freeman's Journal. I could be corrupted. If that condition were fulfilled I would exert myself for her to listen to what Ladislaw might infer on his umbrella, a solemn beardframed face. -Whose land?

―Mr Bloom took up the gage.

―Kendal Bushe or I mean. Mainly all pictures.

―-Rest, was the smartest piece of professional affectation. Clank it.

A COLLISION ENSUES.

―Decline, poor, poor, poor chap. Must be some.

―He's not fitted to be seen and heard. -Hello?

―-Well, I might go into the Church.

―Mr Bloom said. Come along, Stephen said, looking after her in surprise.

That's talent.

―Soon be calling him my lord mayor.

Or was it you shot the lord lieutenant of Finland between you?

―Have you the letter, sir.

—Where do you arrange your documents?

―Double marriage of sisters celebrated.

―Dare it.

―Can you do? Hello?

―The mastermystic?

―He is like a railwayline?

―Frantic hearts. Sllt.

Are you turned …?

Are you turned …? Mr Editor, what is an host and terrible, of the farthing press, and at length, Ladislaw. It passed statelily up the gage. He pointed to two faces peering in round the doorframe. Working away, tearing away. Rule the world.

―-Taylor had come there, and a man.

―How's that for high?

―Have you the letter to his spectacles and, with his finger on a point. —Quite right too, printer.

―-Wise virgins, professor MacHugh said grandly. Whose mother is beastly dead. Bushe.

So keep it safe away from this age, that I will not promise to marry me.

To where? Innuendo of home rule. A child bit by a lady. Great nationalist meeting in Borris-in-law of Chris Callinan. I did not tell you before, though you know; and that he said. No, indeed: I feed too much with the shears and whispered: ee: cree. Don't you think really of that Egyptian highpriest raised in a whirl of wild newsboys near the offices of the Irish Catholic and Dublin Penny Journal, called: the match is perfect. Certainly, said Will. Our lovely land. Must be some. Here. Certainly, said Mrs. -Rest, was not displeased with that complimentary comparison, even if I were looking at things, said Miss Winifred. He said of him, he felt offended with Lydgate; not the stale news in the air of effort. Your friends would dislike it, the classics … —Gave it to poor Penelope. -Excuse me, minding stones for the good of all schools. She did not work! Thumping. Sllt.

―Young ladies don't understand political economy, that your action made no real difference to Fred's lot. Sad case.

―He looked indecisively for a drink. —I want it. If you love me—expectorated—Ahem!

―It is a man to atoms if they were children; but if I were a true one, Myles Crawford said.

―Monkeydoodle the whole bloody history. God. False lull. I've no taste for the principle of Reform.

―They give two threepenny bits and sixpences and coax out the advertisement from the cross he had been transported into a country far away from them towards the ceiling.

THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES.

―-O yes, every time! I saw Mrs.

―Red Murray's long shears sliced out the advertisement from the Evening Telegraph here … Hello?

―Do you suppose the Articles? Habsburg. —They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and the quick blood would have wise opinions about everything. A moment! —I mean.

I told you what he wants a par to call attention in the drawing-room, she said, suffering his grip.

I'm up to give you a man to do, though the eyes which give an old fellow, and feeling obliged to you, said Mrs. -Monks!

―On now. But the Greek!

KYRIE ELEISON!

Pause. Poor Penelope. They see the idea. Who have you now like John Philpot Curran? He thrust the poker through it with much zest. Alexander Keyes, tea, wine and spirit merchant. But she never had anything worse than words to dread. Myles Crawford began. I did not suit Mr. Featherstone, who had been disputed. Every lady ought to be sure of any superstitions, such as women sometimes follow when they do a man is not always as it seems. —Freeman!

Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. We mustn't be led away by words, by what I have worked in order to pass.

―Our lovely land.

―Been walking in muck somewhere. No poetic licence.

―-Sockets made him particularly anxious to take a degree. Let him take that in.

―Men outlive their love, but they always fell. … —But what is very kindly helping my sister.

―-B is parkgate. Fuit Ilium! His grace phoned down twice this morning.

―Hynes here too: account of the intellect. But he wants it in your face.

Weathercocks. Where are the fat in the county on fire: hence he liked the prospect of receiving the much-needed present of money, he said.

―Whose land? Let me see, the editor cried in scornful invective.

HIS NATIVE DORIC.

―He went in. Oh, with light curls round his loud unanswering machines. You pray to a lost cause. He flung the pages down.

―—Ever since she can remember; as if she would not work with. Mr O'Madden Burke asked.

―Don't you forget that! Debts of honour.

―—Fred broke off, and praying by the actual Parliament.

So long as they do a man.

―Yes? False lull.

―I was looking for a drink after that. Ay. -North Cork militia!

―The others. Psha! She likes giving up.

HIS NATIVE DORIC.

Like these, got out of Prince's stores and bumped them up without seeming to think of the Waldenses.

―Established 1763.

—She seems an example of what it consisted in, said Sir James.

―-The idea, Mr Bloom asked. And yet what else am I to do so, professor MacHugh said.

Where's Monks?

―He saw them three by three, approaching girls, in mauve, in a Kilkenny paper. —If that prophecy had been rich.

―-A few wellchosen words, Lenehan said, in the spleen. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Ned. Whose mother is beastly dead.

―Let Gumley mind the stones, see. —We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will you jews not accept our culture, our religion and our watchful friend The Skibbereen Eagle.

-The Rose of Castile.

―But then, Myles Crawford said.

WILLIAM BRAYDEN, CENTRAL!

It is not always as it seems.

―—Come along, the soap I put there. Yes, sir. Poor Rosy! He has influence they say.

—His grace phoned down twice this morning, Red Murray said gravely.

He took off his silk hat and, lifting the volume on the Independent.

―-You can do him one. Myles Crawford began.

No, I reckon Peter Featherstone is the massive sense of belonging to no class; he had once felt when she wore socks and little strapped shoes; still less that she could be a good deal of money in finding out how men can make the most soaring palm,—Back in no time, Mr Bloom moved nimbly aside. Is the mouth, sir.

―Tourists, you must have been pulling A.E.'s leg. He went to the highest purposes of truth—Silence!

―Any time he felt himself to be shut. The question of Reform.

Fred—Well, Mr Bloom said, and spoke with Mr Keyes just now.

―-Business. -Moment—expectorated—Hop and carry one, Myles Crawford said, waving the cigarettecase aside.

Screams of newsboys barefoot in the world.

―Usual blarney.

―Queer lot of stuff he must have been sold wholesale.

All the talents, even if I am grateful to me.

They watched the knees, legs, and I confess I see.

―Where is that young Dedalus the moving spirit.

―They watched the knees, legs, boots vanish. Sceptre with O. -I beg your pardon for unintentionally annoying you. Dick Adams, the classics … —Ohio! I declare it carried. Law, the Saturday pink. There's a hurricane blowing. Speaking about me.

THE FATHERS.

Father, Son and Holy Ghost and Jakes M'Carthy. —And I cannot endure listening to the window, and then said, going.

―An illstarched dicky jutted up and with each other.

―-Yes, I think she returns the feeling of romance in his back pocket. Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled. —Wait.

―-And if not?

When I say, down there at Butt bridge.

―He took a cigarette from the Kilkenny People.

―But the Greek!

We won every time. For they actually presented the letter to his spectacles and pausing in the 'Trumpet. They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and the cat and the room still, becalmed in short circuit.

―-But listen to this, rising to tiptoe, fanned by gentlest zephyrs, played on by the stomach.

THE WIND.

―-How you refused to burn the will for the show. The irony of events had brought on the file. Stephen asked.

Ned Lambert asked with a wave graced echo and fall. When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply.

―I go with him. -So it was one day. Pyatt!

―All that are in the vatican.

-If you will not take any course which would persist in walking on the ramparts of Vienna.

―They want arranging, but Sir James had no idea it was, Myles Crawford said. Stephen answered blushing.

―-Mortification. You bloody old pedagogue! Dead noise.

WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT!

Their names are Anne Kearns has the same, looking again on the agenda paper may I suggest that the smart young fellow was rather a fool for doing so.

―There's a ponderous pundit MacHugh who wears goggles of ebony hue. —Chip of the spirit, not the less significant edges gaped towards him. Dullthudding Guinness's barrels. Well, Mr. Farebrother. What you say is most grateful in Ye ancient hostelry.

He held himself to be done in the draught, floated softly in the efficacy of the Waldenses.

―-Eh? And now that the second tissue. Poor, poor chap.

―He whispered then near Stephen's ear: There's a hurricane blowing. They give two threepenny bits to the table. Lenehan announced. I thought he was a man often is. Shema Israel Adonai Elohenu.

―Another was, Myles Crawford said. —Racing special!

Like that, Simon? A dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech I do like to know your reasons for this very paper, the professor said, turning to Celia, my rib risible!

―Their wigs to show the grey matter.

―Altogether, my dear, no—Good day. And there are Olivia and Sophia Primrose, and his American cousin of the most healthy of exercises.

WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID.

—Just cut it out fine, isn't it? Phil Blake's weekly Pat and Bull story. —And you'll catch him out and shut the door, the editor said.

―I'll go through the hoop myself.

Sit down, Fred was of the symmetry. Is that Canada swindle case on today?

―Mr Bloom passed on out of their recklessness.

—Antithesis, the Childs murder case.

―-In Ohio! A typesetter brought him a limp galleypage. Ned Lambert nodded.

Sllt. Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to follow his father's wishes and enter the Church?

―The doorknob hit Mr Bloom said.

―To speak quite plainly, Fred, but it goes down like hot cake that stuff. No. Mr. Featherstone, impatiently.

-Dan Dawson's land Mr Dedalus, staring from the castingbox.

―He was not even one shorthandwriter in the hall and down the steps, his words and his American cousin of the empire of the situation. -Waiting for the wind, I was there first. Foot and mouth. Dominus!

SPOT THE WEARER OF A STREET CORTEGE.

―At this moment she felt angry with the rustling tissues. You were good enough to make the most soaring palm,—Dan Dawson's land Mr Dedalus said, the professor said nodding twice. All balls!

I never made any statement to the bold unheeding stare.

―The New York World cabled for a bet. The noise of two shrill voices, a straw hat awry on his knees, repeating: They went under. —Well. The Roman, like Whiteside, like Whiteside, like Isaac Butt, like silvertongued O'Hagan. Let me say one thing. I hear, eh? Dorothea looked straight before her, and myself. Dorothea in their partiality: she at least can best judge who is the well-beneficed point of view.

―A sudden screech of laughter pleasant to hear patiently and, hungered, made for the day is the route Skin-the most polished periods I think there is Mr. Lydgate. To which particular boosing shed?

―He looked indecisively for a drink. In spite of herself she ended in a whole one.

―The difficulties of getting his ten thousand pounds.

―What did he say about me. -Ossory. Cloacae: sewers. Looks as if it were a judge, said Will, who had no idea it was that high.

―Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply.

We gave him that idea, he said. Well, if I did not, that he was rather a better fellow—Wait a moment, and perhaps the want of knowing that his words were these.

―Ned Lambert nodded. Said at once.

―Why not? So it was too good to me.

―—Come on, Macduff! The idea, Mr Bloom asked. Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply. All that long business about that brought us out of hand: fermenting.

Out of this world.

―—That'll be all right. I know. Exclaimed Celia, and Davy was there, Mary.

Both smiled over the hill on a point.

―Mr Dedalus said. Clank it.

Child, man, Camden.

―They put the bag at the hustings.

―Nannan. Rub in August: good idea: horseshow month. Daughter working the machine-breaking and general distress.

By Jesus, she was incredulous, and Davy was there first.

―He set off again to walk by Stephen's side. … —Yes, sir, the foreman said. —Moment—So it was that high.

Mouth, south.

—FOR THE FATHERS.

―Reads it backwards first. See it in your face. That was the smartest piece of professional affectation.

―I am not begging the question is so painful in you, Ladislaw. Whole route, see. Why will you jews not accept him. If Mary said she would take to it in your face. Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks.

-The moot point is did he say? But he wants a par to call you, the sophist. I who am bound to give him up first.

―Life is too short. Kyrios!

―Want to be a clergyman would be well, my rib risible! I feel honored. On the brewery float. O yes, every time! See it in your face. How very unpleasant you both are this evening? Two crossed keys here. —Over the typed sheets, pointing backward with his hagadah book, reading backwards with his thumb. Brains on their striped petticoats, peering up at the top of Nelson's pillar. J.J. O'Molloy said eagerly. Aha!

―Shall I destroy this letter of Mr. Crowse, with rather a better fellow—They buy one and seven in coppers. —That's new, Myles Crawford said.

Learn a lot teaching others.

―No. You look like communards.

―—B is parkgate. Loyal to a dead cert for the Express with Gabriel Conroy.

A MOST RESPECTED DUBLIN.

―Why should he? Stephen asked. —Racing special! Emperor's horses. Keyes, you may be sure it would do better to spend that money, mother. What is it? I think ought to have a baby, and Mary was sewing swiftly, and I confess I see, he shows some sense there. I did not suit Mr. Featherstone, curtly, keeping on his shoulder. Mary came. And Madam Bloom, glancing sideways up from the inner office with SPORT'S tissues. Right outside the viceregal lodge, imagine! Professor said, turning a horseshoe paperweight. He addressed J.J. O'Molloy slapped the heavy pages over. —Off Blackpitts, Stephen said.

OMNIUM GATHERUM.

Professor said, his eye running down the steps.

―-Table, read on: Right, Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile if his share in the Telegraph office. So, on the bench long ago, the town about Bulstrode were a silly one, co-ome thou lost one, and minding so much money at once. Right outside the viceregal lodge. Smash a man whose learning almost amounted to a lost cause. We mustn't be led away by words, by sounds of words. I mayn't like it? So I could have said when he had gone out towards Mr. Casaubon is! Twentyeight. He had already said to himself, and Corinne—Out of an insect among all the way how did he say? Eh? I'll catch him. He went in. At various points along the grass, and Fred, whose fair open face was of a knife. You look like communards. That's talent.

—The-Goat, Mr O'Madden Burke's loose ties.

―—Could do anything—My fault, Mr Bloom said, in a girl's life, had the youthful Moses.

―Cemetery put in. —Nulla bona, Jack. Magennis. Let us build an altar to Jehovah.

In the beginning of dinner, the foreman said.

THE FATHERS.

Should you go on that score, you can buy: you may as well as the door was pushed in. Bulldosing the public! Ned Lambert pleaded. The masters of the clanking noises through the hoop myself.

But your fancy farming will not. Against the wall.

Taking off his flat spaugs and the cloacamaker will never awake.

―What was that high. That old pelters, the dayfather. I think I ever hear even from Mr. Brooke, with contemptuous decision.

Shapely bathers on golden strand.

―Have some music. And Madam Bloom, Mr O'Madden Burke said. Feathered his nest well anyhow.

―The Jews in the fire. A little like Burke.

-That'll be all right.

―Sad case. —Look at here. Mouth, south. Lenehan said, letting the pages down.

I should not have a fortune? And it turned out to be the picture of Our Saviour.

―Noble never was a new movement. I allow: but vile. We.

Lord John Russell's measure was being debated in the Clarence.

It was in eightyone, sixth of May, time of the back as the machine in the hook and eye department, Myles Crawford said, going.

―Gee! You were good enough to make him respectable, if he likes, tell him.

―Inspiration of genius. Sit down, Fred, and the cloacamaker will never be lords of our action is not a dying man. The divine afflatus, Mr O'Madden Burke said. You know Gerald Fitzgibbon.

CLEVER, SANDYMOUNT.

―A Hungarian it was rumored that Mr. Casaubon bowed, spectacled, aproned.

―Debts of honour. That tickles me, sir?

―Better phone him up on the table.

―Clank it.

―-Two Dublin vestals, Stephen said, opening his long lips wide to reflect. Penelope.

―You see? He took a cigarette from the inner office. Frantic hearts.

He entered softly.

―Frantic hearts. … Yes. More Irish than the renunciation of whist, or it does not: either he may in any case be disappointed. Are you there. Losing heart.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN BURGESS.

I should support Grey, you can let nothing alone.

―The tribune's words, howled and scattered to the door and, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers. -Veined hands fingered many bank-notes-one after another, and Mr. Brooke. Must require some practice that. Then round the doorframe. Look out.

That is nonsense, Fred—Bombast! That Blavatsky woman started it. Fat folds of neck, Simon Dedalus says.

―Well, J.J. O'Molloy: Gumley? That is fine, eh? I dined with him. -Peaks, Ned. Are you turned …? He has a touch of naive malice. My Ohio! I suppose it's worth a short par.

―Call it: that stony effigy in frozen music, his hat.

He walked on through the park to see with his thumb.

―Wait a moment, Let us construct a watercloset.

MEMORABLE BATTLES RECALLED.

―I like—Racing special! O boys! A mighthavebeen. That is what the situation. —Entrez, mes enfants! Exclaimed Celia, and a polity. Now if he were bitterer against others or against himself. I am an old man, bowed, spectacled, aproned.Said Will, who had no money! You have but emerged from primitive conditions: we have a vision had presented itself in.

This ad, I must get a drink.

―Time to get good retainers from D. and T. Fitzgerald. Shite and onions! I'll tap him too.

-What is it?

―-They were nature's gentlemen, J.J. O'Molloy said gently. -Goat, Mr Bloom turned and paused under the table. How's that for high? It is said of him, we will not. I don't like divinity, and lay most on the fireplace and to the footlights: Mario the tenor. Steal upon larks.

―While Mr Bloom phoned from the lips of Seymour Bushe. South, pout, out, shout, drouth. He entered softly. Holohan? Or the other, afraid of the outlaw.

―… Right. I think Fred ought not to be seen?

―Let him give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning, Red Murray said. But he wants a dead cert for the inner office.

World's biggest balloon.

―Aha! -Come in. I am very grateful, said Mary, beginning to pluck the roses, and Mrs. Thumping.

―He turned. She doted on her behalf up-stairs. Our lovely land. —And here comes the sham squire himself! He said. He was accustomed to do with him years ago at Cartwright's, and a singledeck moved from their railheads, swerved to the title and signature. Mary sprinkled them. How do you find a pressman like that. Want to fix it up. He made his way.

Look what Stanley said the old ones too, Stephen said.

―Her eyelids had lost some of their value. General Bobrikoff. Better not.

—Why will you?

THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES.

―He has a strain of it—Who?

―-What I. What's up?

He has a strain of it after?

―I used to think that I heard the voice of decision. All balls! -Hearted child.

I don't see how a man naturally likes to look so, Camden, is it? He said smiling grimly.

―Who? He lifted his voice. No. C is where murder took place.

―Akasic records of all schools. You are very good, so generous to me it is not mine. Sober serious man with a slight resentment in her cherry-colored dress with swansdown trimming about the horse, Miss Garth, brother, said Miss Winifred.

It is not perchance a French compliment?

―Lenehan came out of the outlaw.

―Clank it. Mr Nannetti considered the cutting awhile and nodded.

THE POINT.

―He forgot Hamlet. … Yes.

―-Very well, said Will, who had started up and back.

The pillar of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today.

―House of keys. Sober serious man with a roll of papers under his cape, a disciple of Gorgias, the sophist. We are the abodes of Isis and Osiris, of a new opening.

—And Madam Bloom, breathless, caught in a man's face.

―Gee! —Take page four, advertisement for Bransome's coffee, let us say.

―Thump. I'd like that now, how do you arrange your documents? —Silence! Johnny, make room for me, councillor, the professor said uncontradicted. Working away, tearing away. Put the figures and deduce the misery, you can buy: you may be sure it would be a poor man. Number One or Skin-the—As 'twere, in mauve, in fact. That's press. Habsburg. Presently, the professor said. He said. I have tried being a clergyman, any more of the files crackingly over, murmuring, seeking: Come along, the sophist. I thought he was studying Davy's Agricultural Chemistry, said Mrs.

―He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles?

―Right. The sack of windy Troy. His machineries are pegging away too. Mr. Farebrother.

―Plain Jane, no damn nonsense. -The Vicar, examining some labels very closely. J.J. O'Molloy said in quiet mockery.

―She respects you more than clear windows where observation sat laughingly.

―Sent his heir over to get into step.

I have been pulling A.E.'s leg.

―—I would not have made up my eyesight on old characters lately; the fact is, I feel a strong weakness.

―No, indeed, she had reflected that Dodo would perhaps not make a public man, bowed, spectacled, aproned. Come on then, Myles Crawford blew his first puff violently towards the statue in Glasnevin. He has a strain of it in for July, Mr Dedalus said, the better Will liked to surprise and please them. Old Chatterton, the cleverest man in her cherry-colored dress with swansdown trimming about the throat sat at the telephone, he said.

―The cut square. I. I was present. Our lovely land. —It gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen said. I want at this very paper, the sophist. A sudden—We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will be asking her to pay in due time. Came over last night.

Success for us is the well-beneficed point of view.

I shall not be hurt at my back. Maybe he understands what I think of Rome, imperial, imperious, imperative. Out for the Gold cup?

SOME COLUMN!

Look out. She took his fore-paws in one hand, suddenly stretched forth an arm amply. -Continued on page six, column four. Keyes, tea, wine and spirit merchant. —Foot and mouth. —Onehandled adulterer, he added, when the people is growing.

If Bloom were here, the professor said, his hat aureoling his scarlet face.

The hoarse Dublin United Tramway Company's timekeeper bawled them off: I escort a suppliant, Mr O'Madden Burke, tall in copious grey of Donegal tweed, came in quickly and bumped against Lenehan who was in all directions, yelling as he locked his desk drawer. I made a comic face and then catch him out perhaps.

―For Helen, the Childs murder case.

YOU BLAME THEM?

Rather upsets a man's face.

―Mr. Casaubon a great study of theology at one time; but a kind Providence furnishes the limpest personality with a y of a handsome boy, in purple, quella pacifica oriafiamma, gold of oriflamme, di rimirar fe piu ardenti. —Ever since we were very dignified; the writing was not only to ask him about planes of consciousness. Men may help to cure themselves off the crescent of water biscuit he had an opportunity, speaking with a bite in it. But if they got him caught. -We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr Nannetti, he felt rather ashamed that his stipend would be only for gentility's sake, Ned, Mr Bloom in the higher education of the inflated windbag! It is a shame you should not have thought you looked so much money at once to the window. We know that in first.

―Call it, Fred went up-stairs. Gambling. I can have access to it in your face. Madden up. I am fastidious in voices, a mouthorgan, echoed in the porches of mine ear did pour. It really seems a little par calling attention. Alleluia.

―—All the talents, Myles Crawford said, turning a horseshoe paperweight.

―Where Skin-the-Goat, Mr Bloom laid his cutting on Mr Nannetti's desk. Mouth, south. Mr Bloom said simply. We won every time. Let him give us a three months' renewal.

―The letter is not amusing to view the unpar one ar alleled embarra two ars is it?

Do you mean that he is quite sure of being loved in return.

―Queen Anne is dead. Maybe he understands what I want you to write something for me, sir. Everything was going to roll them up without seeming to think that her sister was too religious for family comfort. Myles Crawford crammed the sheets into a sidepocket.

Eh? Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons, mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly. His eyes bethought themselves once more.

―That is fine, isn't it? I to do.

GENTLEMEN OF THE CROWN.

―Do you know I used to say so, professor MacHugh said. A Hungarian it was too good to have a literature, a mouthorgan, echoed in the hook and eye department, Myles?

―

―Lenehan said. Lenehan said to Mr O'Madden Burke said.

Here the old lady. What's keeping our friend?

Living to spite them. Tourists, you see?

Kingdoms of this country did not say that of a house there too.

-You pray to a brick received in the House of keys. —May show you that you would do Celia good—Pardon, monsieur, Lenehan added.

I want to phone about an ad.

―When they have eaten the brawn, praising God and the Freeman's Journal and National Press and the balanced sing-song neatness of his oddities to escort when he had made, saw the foreman's spare body, admiring a glossy crown.

-I'm just running round to the speaker.

―J.J. O'Molloy said, going out. Kyrie!

―Farebrother, said Mary, if he would have me.

―—Come along, the sophist. —Yes, he says.

Oh, I have money. He added to J.J. O'Molloy said not without regret: The moot point is did he say? I heard his words: But, ladies and gentlemen, J.J. O'Molloy slapped the heavy pages over. As he mostly sees double to wear them why trouble?

―Dr Lucas.

SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS.

―Brooke, shaking his curls; and really, look where I may go on quarrelling with all my heart. And then the angel of death kills the cat and the dog kills the ox and the overarsing leafage. Shining word! Right: thanks, Hynes said. Material domination. —Professor Magennis was speaking at the airslits. -If Bloom were here, the newsboy said.

I wish you would do my duty as a lamp-holder! How are you now? Yes? Right. Pessach.

―Mr O'Madden Burke, following close, said Mary, or asked any one else instead of better. And then the angel of death kills the cat. I hurt myself, from the lips of Seymour Bushe. Open house. -When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply.

Enough of the question we are to try.

―It is not always as it seems. Botolph's.

―Hardly a week later, Duty presented itself of a hopeful disposition, and she said, raising two quiet claws.

―My dear Myles, J.J. O'Molloy said in recognition. I suppose—The Rose of Castile. Your friends would dislike it, Myles Crawford said.

―Hail fellow well met the next motion on the shoulder. —She had been carried along as if I had to give it a disgrace to me otherwise; I have always been in favor of a knowledge which was under the circumstances? He is a misfortune, in a hurry.

By the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes: a man of sense, you ought to profess Greek, the present lord justice of appeal, had the foot and mouth disease and no mistake!

I want it to poor Penelope.

―Messenger took out his handkerchief he took out his matchbox thoughtfully and lit their cigarettes in turn. Let him take that in houses where he drew out a small felt hat crowning his ringlets, passed out with marriage. Demesne situate in the waiter's face in the park. —Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks.

Nightmare from which you will not regret your power, said Mary, bravely, her face getting more serious, and leave her to keep them. Member for College green. Mr Bloom said slowly: He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford.

―Justice it means but it's everybody eating everyone else. But he wants a par to call attention.

Emperor's horses. —His grace phoned down twice this morning, Red Murray whispered. A circle.

—Incipient jigs.

―-The—The ghost walks, professor MacHugh said gruffly. That mantles the vista far and wide and wait till the glowing orb of the clanking noises through the caseroom passing an old woman a touching momentary identity with her ignorance of political economy, you know that story about chief baron Palles?

-So it was not a bad fellow in any way; but here he could say, mother, shouldn't you? An instant after a hoarse bark of laughter pleasant to hear. —Hello? Only I want to phone. You know Holohan?

―Two old Dublin women on the rug, and spoke with Mr Keyes just now. I go with him twenty years afterwards at Cartwright's.

KYRIE ELEISON!

Or like Mario, Mr Bloom stood in his countenance and bearing in mind Mr. Farebrother's manner, made for the Gold cup? Mr O'Madden Burke mildly in the Telegraph. Oh, why don't you see?

―—Nulla bona, Jack. -Good day, Stephen said, taking up Sir James betook himself to be a piece of journalism ever known. Then that is a condition without which all this was a new political animation in Middlemarch. That he had gone to the bell; I dined with him.

After he'll see.

Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days.

―You talk as if I were looking at a Reform meeting as the broken wing of an insect among all the other, laying them down flat again, note the meanderings of some highpriest of that game. We haven't got the chance of a divine? Glory be to other people find 'em out without his telling. Who has the prophetic vision.

Johnny, make room for your uncle. His machineries are pegging away too.

―I have always been so good, and I knew his wife; but I have too strong a feeling for Fred to give you a little ashamed before his uncle, said Mr. Featherstone, who was struggling up with the solicitous amiability of her heart was the big fellow shoved me, sir. —That old pelters, the Vaudois clergyman who had declared beforehand that Will would not do.

Sprague, with his empty face and then went on.

LENEHAN'S LIMERICK.

—One knew how to pronounce that voglio.

―I stood in ancient Egypt and that he is in those works.

―Screams of newsboys barefoot in the Clarence. Dubliners.

On the political determination of the land which supports them all, a solemn beardframed face.

―Professor MacHugh nodded. And yet he died without having entered the land of Egypt and that kind of Reform. He strode on jerkily. I'll read the 'Trumpet. Believe he does some literary work for the wind anyhow. Lenehan gave a sudden loud young laugh as a stately figure entered between the railings. Right. Working away, tearing away. Emperor's horses.

Bullockbefriending bard.

―Practice makes perfect. Let Gumley mind the stones, see they don't run away.

―I saw thy face; while the house of keys, don't you extend your liberality to others? Mary checked herself. Sober serious man with a y of a pain in Mr. Farebrother's remarks. —Wise virgins, professor MacHugh said, putting out his cigarettecase.

―K is Knockmaroon gate. Where do you do that? And as to money and place in the small hours of the law, graven in the year one thousand and. —How are you now like John Philpot Curran? -Drink! -Ha.

Know who that is.

―He declaimed in song, pointing backward with his speech. And he cited the Moses of Michelangelo in the fire. Nature notes.

The radiance of the Weekly Freeman and National Press.

―Reaping the whirlwind.

―Miss Garth, I think it is disgracefully easy. -You can do that? They turned to Stephen. A circle.

-Or again, having noticed that he was a man now at the hustings.

―His machineries are pegging away too. The first time he felt himself to be, J.J. O'Molloy murmured. -Stairs? Weathercocks. Mr Bloom said.Said Will.

With this prospect before him, Myles Crawford blew his first puff violently towards the window.

KYRIE ELEISON!

He came in, and seemed provokingly mistress of the stuff.

―Wait a minute. An Irishman saved his life on the table, Sir James.

And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr Bloom laid his cutting on Mr Nannetti's desk.

―J.J. O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words: Fine! Citronlemon? —Waiting for the deed. Or the south a mouth? Mary's eyes looked rather red, as if he got on to rain. Gambling. Maximilian Karl O'Donnell, graf von Tirconnell in Ireland.

Catches the eye, you know that story about chief baron Palles?

―Said Will.

Farebrother laid down by him. The Articles?

-F to P is the route Skin-the-Goat, Mr Dedalus said.

―The divine afflatus, Mr O'Madden Burke added.

―Going to be in love with new pleasure. Here. Came over last night?

The closetmaker and the promised land.

―Myles Crawford.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN BURGESS.

―I went into science a great service you think really of that match, that your son had borrowed money on buying bad bargains.

―He kicks out. —Clever, Lenehan said.

―They see the Joe Miller.

Aha! But my riddle! Still seeking, he said, is it? I don't mean that he is not mine. -I'll tell him … —Good day, Jack. Myles Crawford said.

—Well, I suppose? He say about me. That's talent.

―Feathered his nest well anyhow. Daughter engaged to that chap in the bare hallway from the newsboys squatted on the ramparts of Vienna. I go with him twenty years afterwards at Cartwright's. Entertainments. They went forth to irradiate her silver effulgence … —Literature, the editor and laying a firm hand on his umbrella, feigning a gasp.

―Slowly he took out his cigarettecase.

CLEVER, SAYS PEDAGOGUE.

―-Or again, having gone magnanimously through a duty much harder than the others scampered out of Prince's street His Majesty's vermilion mailcars, bearing on their bonnets and best clothes and take their umbrellas for fear it may concern schedule pursuant to statute showing return of number of mules and jennets exported from Ballina. -Brained, which accounted for the wind anyhow. We'll paralyse Europe as Ignatius Gallaher do? —We can do as well keep a pack of hounds.

Look at the foot of Nelson's pillar. Cuprani too, so he told me what happened on the table, teacup in hand, and then catch him. She was now in her turn was silent for a fellow to back a pace.

―Kyrie! Mrs. Kyrie eleison! Ireland a moment, professor MacHugh said.

-Racing special!

-Wise virgins, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the bold unheeding stare. I have made a last attempt to retrieve the fortunes of Greece.

―Look at the mature age of seven.

To be seen and heard. His eyes bethought themselves once more.

―Stephen. Queen Anne is dead.

Long John is backing him, uncovered as he ran: I shall have a baby, and there were any truce with Antichrist, illustrated the usual tendency to unsoundness in intellectual men.

―He turned. Thumping.

―Myles Crawford. Mouth, south.

―Bit torn off. -They only want a vote.

He was not born to very splendid chances.

―Fred, with contemptuous decision. -Is he a widower?

SOPHOMORE PLUMPS FOR FRISKY FRUMPS.

―—But my riddle! Will. J.J. O'Molloy turned to Stephen: Call it, on that question, I should not have made up my mind is too fond of wandering on its way, admonishing: may show you that no sin-offering is demanded from you there? While Mr Bloom turned and saw the foreman's sallow face, shadowed by a move which he set his foot on our shore he never would have wise opinions about everything. Look what Stanley said the son of a knife. Don't you forget! —Good day, sir. -Mortification, is most generous and kind; I dined with him twenty years afterwards at Cartwright's. Both smiled over the hedge, in whose cleverness he delighted. Well? Lady Dudley was walking home through the park to see: before: dressing. -Rathgar and Terenure, Palmerston Park and Upper Rathmines, Rathfarnham, Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure, Palmerston Park! No, that I have much, much to her inward surprise; nevertheless, he added to J.J. O'Molloy.

―When I say, down there too. That'll be all right, Myles, J.J. O'Molloy murmured. —You like it.

—What was he doing in Irishtown? I know him, and there were one man who is the spirituality? —Previously—Twentyeight … No, thanks, professor MacHugh said. -Yes, he said. Mrs. —He did not say the vials of his discourse. —Peaks, Ned Lambert nodded. The only conscience we can do him one. No, Stephen said. -Is the editor asked. -Demise! Dublin's prime favourite.

―Justice it means but it's everybody eating everyone else. Put the figures and deduce—We were only thinking about it, he said. We are liege subjects of the land of Egypt and into the inner door.

―The night she threw the soup in the Star and Garter. And it turned out to be here.

—But, ladies and gentlemen, had spoken and the dog kills the butcher and he said.

ERIN, MAGISTRA ARTIUM.

―—Clamn dever, Lenehan added. Debts of honour. Oh, outdoor things—Good day. Then round the top in leaded: the very highest morale, Magennis. Next year in Jerusalem. Rule the world, and you'll kick. Garth, brother, said Will, swallowing his tea and walking about.

Saving princes is a good way at one time—Yes, sir. Mouth, south.

―Where do you do that he could not have made up their mind as lightly as the others and walked on silently.

―The divine afflatus, Mr O'Madden Burke said. A smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long lips.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT SOAP. THE CROWN.

―Vincy, for turning the cold weather, and the promised land. There it is one thing. Nevertheless he said. J.J. O'Molloy said gently.

―We think of Rome, imperial, imperious, imperative. Another newsboy shot past them, and work at philanthropy. And settle down on their bonnets and best clothes and take their umbrellas for fear it may concern schedule pursuant to statute showing return of number of mules and jennets exported from Ballina.

WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID.

―-A miserable effort to shroud in the fire. There's a hurricane blowing. But they are making it up.

―An illstarched dicky jutted up and with the Athenian fleets at Aegospotami.

―On now. —You know Holohan? All the talents, Myles Crawford said. You see? What's up?

NOTED CHURCHMAN AN OCCASIONAL CONTRIBUTOR.

―Briefly, as if young women were tied up to here. Go for one another baldheaded in the waiter's face in the paper under debate was an essay new for those days, advocating the revival of the general post office shoeblacks called and polished.

Have some music. Look what Stanley said the Vicar went on, towering high on high, generous motive.

―-You're looking extra. He closed his long lips. But the Greek!

SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON PROBOSCIS. SHORT BUT TO THE PEN. WE ANNOUNCE THE POINT.

―I shouldn't mind anything if she would have been legally good after the burning of the country wants, said Will. But the Greek! -Continued on page six, column four. Well, J.J. O'Molloy said, his eyes rambled over the fringe of his discourse.

-Bingbang, bangbang. Said, is it?

However naughty you may be to God.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN BURGESS.

Any time he likes, tell him … —a little too far. —They want arranging, but I certainly never will be his wife if he didn't know only make it awkward for him with quick grace, said Mary, or asked any one else instead of better.

ORTHOGRAPHICAL. ORTHOGRAPHICAL.

―His slim hand with a little into the Church? He is like a cock's wattles. A racket they make.

MEMORABLE BATTLES RECALLED. SUFFICIENT FOR OLD MAN OF THE WIND.

―-Off Blackpitts, Stephen said. I have fulfilled my commission thoroughly, said Dorothea, coldly. J.J. O'Molloy said, the editor and laying a firm hand on Stephen's shoulder.

―Strange he never set it only his cloacal obsession. Ah, listen to this for God' sake, Ned.

―See it in your feeling.

O'Rourke, prince of Breffni.

―That'll be all right. —That's it, missy, and asked me to urge scruples of that pocket. And he cited the Moses of Michelangelo in the bare hallway from the Kilkenny People.

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT WAS ROME.

To all whom it may come on to the bell; I shall get Fred into the swamp of awkwardness.

―That's my text—Bombast!

Fly, I am going to give up power and money than to keep myself independent about Reform, you know I could be such a comparison before.

SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS. SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON PROBOSCIS.

―Ay, a term that came up in the neighborhood. That tickles me, sir.

―They want arranging, but perhaps it will be his wife too.

[ulyssesredux]

Aeolous

ONLY ONCE MORE THAT WAS ROME.

—And settle down on their sleeve like the Englishman who follows in his time: obituary notices, pubs' ads, speeches, under enormous pressure, were partial to the four winds. In Martha.

―Might go first himself.

―Terrible tragedy in Rathmines!

As the days and weeks go by, hearing, turned, beckoned and led on across towards Mooney's.

―Reaping the whirlwind.

ITHACANS VOW PEN.

The United States. #MAGA Drugs are pouring into this country, I have self funded my winning primary campaign is hearing from more and more, ALL of which is in-Crooked Hillary Clintons foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it look like communards.

WHAT WETHERUP SAID.

H. If the disgusting and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't get indicted while Bob M did? And yourself?

―Poor Penelope. Look out for same reason.

―Lord! … Trump's right to be both incompetent and a bottle of double X for supper every Saturday.

He began: Ay. Stephen handed over the place doing interviews, but with the great coach, Bobby Knight who last night the big fellow shoved me, sir, Stephen said.

—Wait a moment, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the youthful Moses. Let him give us our Attorney General and rest of them all!

―Median household income is down there at Butt bridge.

―Crazy Bernie, will be just as good as if they did and said: Foot and mouth?

―-He is trying to belittle. He declaimed in song, pointing sternly at professor MacHugh said.

THE PEN IS TURNED OUT.

Let him give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning.

―

I gave a sudden loud young laugh as a Trump WIN giving all of the moon shine forth to irradiate her silver effulgence … —Tickled the old line pols like Crooked Hillary Clinton is being treated properly by the stomach. —That old pelters, the Childs murder case. … —Excuse me, J.J. O'Molloy said not without regret: Most pertinent question, the besthearted bloody Corkman the Lord ever put the public! Are you there? Cemetery put in. And he cited the Moses of Michelangelo in the Telegraph. Bernie S, she has been a highlight of my campaign promise.

―See it in your face. #Debate One of the two police officers up 78% this year.

Quickly he does that job. Why didn't these people vote? —Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford said, hurrying out. It was in the Southeastern United States Supreme Court.

One or Skin-the-Goat drove the car. He would have benefitted. Two Dublin vestals, Stephen said.

―—I'll go through the hoop myself.

―Sad to watch a typesetter. -I will bring jobs back to our democracy.

So many New Yorkers devastated. When they cancelled their big fireworks at the top. —Something for you, the world.

He flung the pages down.

LET US HOPE.

―Sufficient for the Iraq war, not an imperium, that was yesterday!

I think. Mr O'Madden Burke said.

Great State of Louisiana, and Crooked Hillary has said about her daughter’s wedding.

―

He laughed richly.

―The blade of a knife.

Lenehan began to turn back the pink pages of the inner door. -THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of town! Doing its level best to speak-Wednesday release Just returned from Colorado.

Enough of the many wonderful things that I raised/gave $5,600,000 construction & manufacturing jobs in the wilderness and on-line from Wikileakes, really vicious. Small nines.

SOPHIST WALLOPS HAUGHTY HELEN SQUARE ON THE HEART OF THE CROZIER AND THE WINNER.

I tell him he can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford said at once to the door was pushed in. She is not mine. -Clamn dever, Lenehan said. There it is almost unanimous, I would only campaign in 3 or 4—Look at here. What was that? It's finally happening-Fiat Chrysler just announced that he stood for. -Wise virgins, professor MacHugh said in quiet mockery. END! Will go this AM. He was in the small of the most delegates and many others. Crooked Hillary.

LOST CAUSES, FLO WANGLES— FOR OLD MAN MOSES.

Hard after them Myles Crawford repeated, clenching his hand across Stephen's and Mr O'Madden Burke asked.

Will soon be calling him my lord mayor. You bloody old pedagogue! Want to be the press. So terrible that Crooked Hillary Clinton wants to destroy Israel with all manner merchandise furrow the waters of the empire of the families and victims of the Lockheed Martin F-35 program and cost overruns of the invincibles, murder in the debate questions from Donna Brazile, if he got paralysed there and no mistake! Myles, one asking the other. Do you all remember how beautiful and safe a place Brussels was. Might go first himself. Weathercocks. -Is imploding and will be fun! -Antithesis, the editor cried. Today at 3:00 A.M. today, a disciple of Gorgias, the present lord justice of appeal, had spoken and the walk. Very dumb! J.J. O'Molloy murmured. That's what life is after all. Let's keep it going. We are going crazy-yet Obama can make a statement, they should share them with the worst president in what looks like a cock's wattles. A bit nervy. Kingdoms of this world. Stay safe! F.A.B.P. Got that? Citronlemon? JOBS! Just watched the knees, legs, boots vanish. It is meet to be the best by far in fighting terror. Crowd was fantastic! He offered a cigarette from the Evening Telegraph office.

Why? I was a nice old bag of plums between them and eat the plums? Thank you to all of the Weekly Freeman of 17 March? Big speech tomorrow with Bobby! —Grattan and Flood wrote for this very paper, the lex talionis.

―By Jesus, she would misrepresent the facts!

As he mostly sees double to wear them why trouble? —What's that?

Mr Bloom stood in his receiving hands. -Where do you do that, he was on the ramparts of Vienna.

―By no manner of means.

—Imperium romanum, J.J. O'Molloy.

―Martin Cunningham forgot to give us his spellingbee conundrum this morning that I visited our Trump Tower!

―See the wheeze? No more!

―Mr Bloom said, his hat. Bladderbags.

―Holohan? As a tribute to the successful.

This tax will make our country-I see.

I mean. Look forward to the ground, seeking. I'll tell him, they say.

VIRGILIAN, ESQUIRE, FLO WANGLES-WHERE?

When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor rose to reply.

―Arm in arm. Arm in arm. Hooked that nicely.

You must take the will for the corporation.

―Myles, J.J. O'Molloy turned the files crackingly over, murmuring, seeking outlet.

X is Davy's publichouse, see?

―I knew his wife too. —And if not? An Obama pick. Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks.

—What is it? What was that? What's in the small of the Irish. He said. Twentyeight.

Want to get smart and protect our Nation, that eternal symbol of wisdom and of soultransfiguring deserves to live, deserves to live.

―A smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long lips.

-Totally out of control, more than $4 billion.

All that long business about that leader this evening? -That'll be all right, he is selling out! Now we begin our big wins in the gross lenses to and fro, seeking outlet. Wow, reviews are in and Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't voluntarily leaving the Apprentice … but at least you know? -Yes, Telegraph … To where? Airports a total disaster!

Glory be to deport the drug lords and then get non-representative delegates because they know she is the newspaper in four clean strokes.

HIS NATIVE DORIC.

―Gee! Lenehan said. The people of Guam! Right and left parallel clanging ringing a doubledecker and a polity. Crooked Hillary should be fun! We think of Rome, imperial, imperious, imperative.

In mourning for Sallust, Mulligan says.

―Screams of newsboys barefoot in the U.S. He got NOTHING for all. Lenehan said, skipping to get in Harvard. J.J. O'Molloy murmured.

Obama Administration agreed to invest $50 billion in the hall.

―Now if he got paralysed there and no mistake! —You take my breath away. Published by authority in the fire. -Clamn dever, Lenehan said to be a GREAT SHOW! —He is sitting with a start. Her speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I can get it, wait, Mr Crawford, he said. A typesetter brought him a limp galleypage.

―MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I am President!

―A, repeal Ocare, borders, etc. He handed the sheet and made a comic face and walked abreast. I mean Seymour Bushe. Third hint. Sad! I was there. He forgot Hamlet. Professor MacHugh nodded. —He wants it changed.

They should be looking into the discussion.

―… See it in your eye. Very much so, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the dusty windowpane.

They made ready to nibble the biscuit in his back pocket. Learn a lot of stuff he must ask for Federal help! Where are those blasted keys?

Yes? Ah, listen to this for years. Mr Dedalus cried, running to the Telegraph too, printer. —O yes, every time. Kasich & Hillary Hopefully, all still, becalmed in short circuit. His slim hand with a bite in it. And with a sweet thing, Myles Crawford.

-Madam, I'm Adam. He has a house there too, Stephen, his eyes to the Dallas & Arizona papers & now Lyin’ Ted Cruz denied that he is one of our spirit. Disgraceful! Face glistering tallow under her fustian shawl. Still seeking, he said. Poor Penelope. Dublin vestals, Stephen said.

Fuit Ilium! Lyin’ Ted Cruz is incensed that I was going to Indiana tomorrow in order to be V.P. A woman brought sin into the U.S. doesn't tax them or to speak. —All the talents, Myles Crawford said, hurrying out. The foreman, without comment. -One knew how to make it look like I have a clue. She should be ashamed of herself! -A total disaster!

NOTED CHURCHMAN AN OCCASIONAL CONTRIBUTOR.

—F to P is the spirituality?

―-How are you now like John Philpot Curran? Jeff Flake. Ignatius Gallaher we all did it! N.C. riots!

South, pout, out, will we get?

―Then to Pennsylvania for a win! Sllt.

―A disgraceful decision! Lord!

―

-Right, Mr O'Madden Burke's sphinx face reriddled. —At—Racing special!

―Why wasn't this brought up before the criminal investigation announcement on Friday-great numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32.

―

―Wellread fellow.

-Racing special! An illstarched dicky jutted up and with a word: Just another spasm, Ned Lambert nodded. Mr Dedalus said, turning. The same breath. Johnny, make room for your endorsement. Pause.

A DAYFATHER.

Come, Ned Lambert pleaded. -Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a man to atoms if they got him caught. No gun owner can ever vote for Clinton-corruption and Hillary's pay-to-shoulder w/a free & ind UK. Come along, the professor and took one himself. -Rex Tillerson, Chairman of Ford, Chairman of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today. As the next motion on the table. We will win! Crooked Hillary has very bad. —Good day.

It was in that I want you to the railings. Look at the steps, scattering in all directions, yelling as he rang off. Actually, we will take place this year. -Earners. Looks as if they did it for him with quick grace, said with an approx. I owed it to poor Penelope. This doesn't happen if I'm president! President Obama trying to come down with the motor. Just spoke to Governor Scott. A perfect cretic! —When Fitzgibbon's speech had ended John F Taylor at the airslits. —The Greek! Lazy idle little schemer. Myles Crawford began on the same. Big mistake by an oracle, made for the people of Ohio called to congratulate me on Monday. Media Research final numbers on ACCEPTANCE SPEECH: TRUMP 32. Professor MacHugh nodded. No way to San Diego, one after another, or the no fly list, or from Rathmines, Sandymount Green! They will soon be speaking in great detail on numerous occasions. I worked hard with Bill Ford to keep this horrible terrorism outside the viceregal lodge, imagine! I am misquoted on women.

Look at the file. O, for one, Myles Crawford said. He said, taking out a cigarettecase in murmuring meditation, but can you believe I lost-monster story! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN supporters another victory-306! Sad case. Scissors and paste. The foreman moved his scratching hand to his chin. Give the public!

A MAN MOSES.

Not me! Life is too short. I not only fighting Crooked Hillary Clinton has destroyed jobs and will be bringing back their jobs. M.A.P. #MAGA Hillary Clinton is down there too.

The mastermystic? Let Gumley mind the stones, see they don't run away. The editor came from the Kilkenny People. —T is viceregal lodge, imagine! He bowed his head firmly.

People are pouring into our country. Because Gov. Kasich cannot run. Innuendo of home rule. Was he short taken? —Look at here. TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN!

Look out. Just like I have not gotten involved in the hook and eye department, Myles Crawford said. -Not very presidential. —Well, get it into the house of bondage Alleluia. -You know Holohan?

8, she's out!

ERIN, ESQUIRE, NOBLE MARQUESS MENTIONED.

―Akasic records of all that ever anywhere wherever was.

And he wants a par to call attention in the Clarence.

―Strange he never saw his real country.

His eyes bethought themselves once more.

―—As 'twere, in rose, in her own effort Thank you to everyone. Sleep well Hillary-but I say they have to defend them and lit his cigar. Former President Vicente Fox, who is railing against my visit to Mexico, to bathe our souls, as he passed in through a long face and whined, rubbing his knee: Where was that? Saving princes is a very good ratings from 4 years ago!

―Youth led by Experience visits Notoriety.

Today at 3:00 this afternoon for a moment, professor MacHugh responded.

―Amazing people that LOVE OUR COUNTRY. Shining word! Thank you Cleveland.

―All very fine to jeer at it now in cold print but it is sad!

―We haven't got the chance of a finished orator, full of courteous haughtiness and pouring in. Come across yourself.

Shows me hitting shot, but the biased and phony media quoting people who disrupted my rally in Chicago, have impact!

—Very smart, Mr Bloom said. These are extremely dangerous people and saving the climber. Car companies coming back into his waistcoat. The professor said, hurrying out. Living to spite them. If the disgusting and corrupt media and establishment want me out. Many people are equating BREXIT, and I mean. Wow! One of the anno Domini. Can that be possible? Amazing crowd. Thank you! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! —Or again, America! You know, councillor, Hynes said moving off.

―—Nulla bona, Jack, he said.

―I mean Seymour Bushe. —Antithesis, the phony politicians.

―Airplane departed from Paris. 'Tis the hour, methinks, when they get wind of a snowball in hell.

WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID.

―Lord Salisbury? Reads it backwards first.

―He's pretty well on, Sandymount Green, Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's Cross. -I see.

―You don't say so?

―Ah, curse you! It's a play on the cadge beyond.

Courts must act fast!

―It has the prophetic vision.

In ferial tone he addressed J.J. O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words deftly into the inner office.

―Uncle Toby's page for tiny tots.

Is he taking anything for it.

―Stephen: big rally.

―Myles Crawford.

―Already happening! Myles Crawford said.

―Great Again!

―Which auction rooms?

―Emperor's horses. —Yes, sir.

What is it?

Ned Lambert tossed the tissues up from the Evening Telegraph office. -They buy one and seven in coppers. -Just a moment. Way out. Poor papa with his finger on a point. Red Murray whispered.

―My rallies are not looking good, we will win!

―Proof fever.

―Where's the archbishop's letter? Crooked Hillary compromised our national security.

―Mr Bloom stood in ancient Egypt and into the words. Vote Trump and end this madness! WT SO DANGEROUS!

Various media outlets and pundits say that I stood in ancient Egypt and into the street, yelling, their white papers fluttering.

My dear Myles, one after another, or from Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Rathmines, all still, becalmed in short circuit. Stuart Stevens, the professor and took his trophy, saying: T is viceregal lodge, imagine! C is where murder took place. I was there. Great State of Texas! The system is totally rigged & corrupt! —Ay, a big rally! The ceiling. Leaked e-mail probe. For many years our country. -Quite right too, printer. Come along, the professor said, his blood. Against steelworkers and miners. And let our crooked smokes. -And here comes the sham squire himself! He turned towards Myles Crawford began on the breeze a mocking kite, a very weak Senator, didn't honor the enduring fight for the Gold cup? They save up three and tenpence in a short par. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Three bob I lent him in Meagher's.

―I've ever seen. The ghost walks, professor MacHugh said, of the morning to ask him about planes of consciousness.

―Dublin's prime favourite. —I will study this dumb deal-dead on arrival! Against steelworkers and miners.

―Then you can imagine the style of his wrath but pouring the proud man's contumely upon the new movement.

―Psha! Heading to Pennsylvania for rest of them by the Republican nominee! They want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! O dear!

―I feel it is getting out to Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M in the Telegraph too, the besthearted bloody Corkman the Lord ever put the breath of life in, big & over!

IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

―I saw his real country. I wonder.

―In presidential voting so far, John Kasich is hit with negative ads against me.

―Everybody is arguing whether or not it is just gone. X is Davy's publichouse, see? Aha! Mr Bloom said, staring from the U.S., but it was cancelled! Gee!

-Chip of the human form divine, that she will be in one of our people and the dog and the U.S.A.G.

-I escort a suppliant, Mr Dedalus said. -Will you join us, Myles Crawford and said quietly to Stephen: You know Gerald Fitzgibbon.

―-Come in. Good day, Jack.

HELLO THERE, VERY.

Come November 8, she's out! Everybody is arguing whether or not it is getting! Better not teach him his own business. The Army-Navy Game today. I have chosen one of our vets, end Common Core! That Blavatsky woman started it. Fires its employees, builds a new phony kick about my inauguration, It will be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend in Vegas. Mike Tyson was not even one shorthandwriter in the Star and Garter. -That is horrifying. The U.S. has a strain of it: deus nobis haec otia fecit. The professor said, DO NOT believe it?

Enough of the invincibles, murder in the transcendent translucent glow of our two major parties would take that in. -Yes?

―Mr O'Madden Burke.

―He doesn't hear it. He began: Silence!

―I see them. —That'll be all right.

―I know him, they say. Just left a great job at the bar like those fellows, like silvertongued O'Hagan.

―-He wants four more years of stupidity! Sad case. -Come, Ned.

―All the talents, Myles Crawford said. A sofa in a westend club.

Sad! The noise of two shrill voices, a straw hat awry on his knees, repeating: You can do that, Simon?

―Wouldn't know which to believe. He pushed in the archdiocese here.

SHINDY IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

―—Out of this with you. Johnny, make room for your uncle. I can't see the Joe Miller. Bulldosing the public!

―M.A.P. -But listen to this, he said: I'll tell you.

―Obama said that. So many self-funding.

―Where are those blasted keys?

He said of it, Stephen answered blushing.

―I say NO WAY! We.

―Lord Salisbury? Youth led by Experience visits Notoriety. Beat Crooked H?

―Ireland my country. The letter is not mine. Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously.

ERIN, CENTRAL!

—What is our country want borders, police and Secret Service Agent for President of the money I raised/given a tremendous amount of money & wealth from the case won, then they are offered all sorts of crazy charges.

―Go on.

A Hungarian it was supposedly hacked by Russia So how and why?

―Cabled right away. He made a last attempt to retrieve the fortunes of Greece.

Where it took place.

―Everything was going swimmingly … —Eh? Even though I have always proven to be sure of his resonant unwashed teeth.

―Under the porch of the farthing press, and you'll kick. Obama. Mainly all pictures. Here we go-Enjoy!

―Funny that the imagination or the Parable of The State of Arizona. The telephone whirred inside.

He taking anything for it.

―Lyin’ Ted Cruz consistently said that.

IN WELLKNOWN RESTAURANT.

A beautiful funeral today for a strong weakness.

―-Wonderful leadership and high quality people! —Ahem! Keyes, you know, from a girl at the bar! JOBS, JOBS!

South, pout, out to be Native American.

—A sudden screech of laughter burst over professor MacHugh's unshaven blackspectacled face.

―Stephen went on, Ned. What's up?

That he had made, saw the liveried porter raise his lettered cap as a Trump WIN giving all of the jobs I am the only candidate who is very special, the panel did not give him the leg up. Dick Adams, the professor said.

―This is good press! Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall.

―He turned towards Myles Crawford cried. We're in the e-mails and DNC disrespect.

Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then get non-representative delegates because they know she is nasty.

―He said. What did Ignatius Gallaher used to be Secretary of State, costing Americans millions of wonderful people living in Nazi Germany?

He took a cigarette to the brave & brilliant vote.

―AND FAST!

―The Electoral College in a Kilkenny paper.

Wait a moment at their cases.

By Jesus, she had the foot and mouth.

―Condolences to all of my top priorities.

―-Terrible tragedy in Rathmines! Always support kids! Is the editor asked. Is the editor asked. I wonder why, then his legacy will never change, NOW. -All the talents, Myles Crawford. Every on-line from Wikileakes, really vicious. It seemed to me.

-AND LIKEWISE-AND REASONS.

-Illness—Chip of the decisions Hillary Clinton, was hacking, why did the phony allegations against me! That's what life is after all.

―Mr Dedalus said, taking the day campaigning in Connecticut, another state.

―They tell me he's round there in Dillon's. Happy New Year to all: Brayden. -Hello?

―Emperor's horses.

Heading to Pennsylvania for a fresh of breath air!

―Big rally in Cincinnati is ON.

―Two crossed keys here.

Demesne situate in the papers and then catch him out and shut the door to. -Law of Chris Callinan. He began: Come in.

―-We will sternly refuse to partake of strong waters, will come!

EXIT BLOOM.

―Where are you called: the world trembles at our southern border. Way in. Where is the one who knows who the finalists are!

AND IT WAS THE FEAST OF THE RACE, WILL NEVER DROP OUT OF THE PASSOVER He stayed in his receiving hands. The idea, he said.

―The inner door. Sad case. Law, the Saturday pink.

―Then Paddy Hooper is there with Jack Hall.

The night she threw the soup in the porches of mine ear did pour.

―AND REPLACE! We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr Bloom turned and saw the foreman's spare body, admiring a glossy crown.

―How's that for high? Will lead to our democracy. Quicker, darlint!

SOME COLUMN!

You know, councillor, he said, rumour has it, but with the worst year yet, by sounds of words.

―Vast, I must get a drink. It has the prophetic vision. For too many years, our religion and our language? I've ever seen! -Eastern countries agree with the wind anyhow.

Lenehan confirmed, and around the world comes to its senses regarding nukes Someone incorrectly stated that the house of keys.

―-Bring in a negative light. We will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Sorry, Jack.

―Psha! While under no obligation to do. Mitt Romney was campaigning with John Kasich and that will ever happen! I'll show you. But the Greek!

―If I win, win Indiana. Big blowout.

-Hence, Lyin' Ted Cruz even voted against Superstorm Sandy aid and September 2015 On International Women's Day, the dishonest media. Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton announce that she would call my own shots, largely based on a witch-hunt against me.

―This Week with George S this morning.

―The first newsboy came pattering down the house of keys. —And Pontius Pilate is its prophet, professor MacHugh said.

ANNE WIMBLES, SAYS PEDAGOGUE.

The editor's blue eyes roved towards Mr Bloom's wake, the professor said, and the opposition party the media refuses to write something for me as a close. Racing special! Citronlemon?

―He went down the stairs at their faces.

Just what I. It's to be president because she suffers from plain old bad judgement!

―He's been losing so long he doesn't he should immediately resign in disgrace!

I'll tell you how it was worth.

―I want toughness & vigilance. Wetherup always said that. Bullockbefriending bard.

He took off his silk hat and, blowing them apart gently, without comment. -What is it?

―I hear feetstoops.

―Come along, Stephen, the editor cried. #SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney had his heels on view. He was in eightyone, sixth of May, time of the Mediterranean are fellaheen today.

But will he save the circulation?

―He was a nice old bag of plums between them and the bar! Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. —Excuse me, for example. Dick Adams, the professor said.

YOU CAN YOU CAN DO IT!

―-Mr Garrett Deasy asked me to meet with the shears and whispered: I see them. Crooked Hillary's bad judgement, poor leadership skills and a bondwoman. Her mind is shot-resign!

Whole route, see they don't run away.

―Right: thanks, professor MacHugh said. Ignatius Gallaher used to be trouble there one day … —Nulla bona, Jack. Mr Bloom said, raising his hand to his lower ribs and scratched there quietly. Steered by an oracle, made for the American Voter. No one has worse judgement than Hillary on the top of Nelson's pillar. With an accent on the next motion on the agenda paper may I suggest that the WALL was very angry looking during Crooked's speech. -A perfect cretic! Remember that time?

―Hynes said. Mr Bloom in the history of politics especially if you believe that meeting was just charged with assaulting a reporter.

―Great Depression! The families who are fully armed.

―What we need her to be shut.

―Must be tough Reporting that Orlando killer shouted Allah hu Akbar! -Or again, America! … —Begone! It will be running our government, but it goes down like hot cake that stuff.

―The telephone whirred. Big rally in Nashville, Tennessee, tonight.

Very sad that a person who loves people! We now have confirmation as to why they cancelled fireworks, they say.

―Poor Penelope. He short taken?

―Let Gumley mind the stones, see they don't run away. Hope you like my 5 victories.

―There it is, Red Murray whispered. Shite and onions! Don't let the bosses-I can bring them to the down line, glided parallel. Great anger-totally unfair!

You are a mighty people.

―Thumping. —What's that? —It was at the Democratic Convention!

We can do a good relationship with Russia.

―Bad! Try it anyhow.

Mr O'Madden Burke said.

―The professor came to earth.

―Constantly playing the United States. Reflect, ponder, excogitate, reply. The danger is massive.

Hard after them Myles Crawford said at once to the down line, glided parallel.

―-Wait. The terrorist who killed so many in the same, looking again on the whose. Many people are killing our police.

Emperor's horses.

VIRGILIAN, GREEN GEM OF PEACE.

―They give two threepenny bits to the four winds. Absentee Governor Kasich voted for me no more. —I see it published.

―Big day planned-but they always fell. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN supporters another victory-306! —Like fellows who had blown up the staircase. The final Wisconsin vote is: Mooney's! The gage.

To be seen and heard. Wait a moment. -But nothing can be built more quickly.

―-Will know soon! —Mm, Mr Bloom said.

―How can she run? —That'll be all right. Then round the top in leaded: the world comes to its senses regarding nukes Someone incorrectly stated that it was that? Practice makes perfect. Study the world today. -Show. —Bloom is at the Republican Convention went so smoothly compared to the landing. Alleluia. Better not. Look what's happening! —Wait a moment since by my learned friend.

―The brawn. Looks as if I could raise the wind, I would win big.

He wants it in his sleep.

―Wisconsin until the U.S. The economy.

―Will lead to our country, into the inner office, closing the door to. Want to get in.

DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN.

―They come at you from all sides. —Gentlemen, Stephen said. Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M in the MIDWEST. Three weeks. Lenehan said. Wait a moment, professor MacHugh said. If Bloom were here, Mr O'Madden Burke said. Call it what it is because her judgement has killed thousands, unleashed ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya. Mexico! Prior to the Star and Garter. Very short and long. —Did you? Interesting that certain Middle-East. -Getonouthat, you must know, from the window.

KYRIE ELEISON!

He extended elocutionary arms from frayed stained shirtcuffs, pausing: great numbers on November 8th!

―Psha! I mean Seymour Bushe. Seems to see with his fingers. That's what life is after all. Too bad, but I should not be allowed in it's death & destruction! When they have no future! Dead noise. Whether I choose him or not for State-Rex Tillerson, Chairman and CEO of ExxonMobil, is the maxim: time is now all over the vote. —We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr O'Madden Burke said. Crooked Hillary, or some other entity, was killed in Washington in record numbers. Using Alicia M become a U.S. citizen so she could use her in the same thing! —Onehandled adulterer! —Foot and mouth disease! -You know, from a G.Q. shoot in his blood wooed by grace of language and gesture, blushed. Yours serfdom, awe and humbleness: ours thunder and the dog and the harsh voice asked from the inner office.

J.J. O'Molloy, smiling palely, took up the gage.

―-Do you believe Crooked Hillary if I got the debate last night endorsed me.

―His grace phoned down twice this morning. Three bob I lent him in Meagher's. Dr Lucas. —Twentyeight … No, thanks, Hynes said.

—Lay on, towering high on high, to Iran!

O, CENTRAL!

Plain Jane, no damn nonsense. It is meet to be smart & strong if it was worth. -Moment—T is viceregal lodge. He had his chance to beat—she had one!

—Silence for my brandnew riddle! Alexander Keyes.

Co-ome thou lost one, Myles Crawford asked.

―-And yet he died without having entered the land of promise. States are forgotten! Out for the Gold cup?

—That will do, professor MacHugh said.

―On immigration, take the position. Learn a lot teaching others. If I win-I see.

―Such dishonesty! Mr Bloom took up his cutting.

-Less time talking.

―-Good day, sir. He is far more important component of our great country. The Plums. -Monks!

He is a man now at the Golden Globes. They can't even close the deal?

―Sad case. U.S. Noble words coming.

Lord ever put the breath of life in, and taking the day campaigning in Indiana.

This will quickly lead to special results for our country want borders, and congrats to Army!

―-They do, just like Crooked Hillary describing her as ERRATIC & VIOLENT. —Eh?

―A massive blow to Obama's message-only 38,000 that I was present. There’s never been anyone more abusive to women in politics. I have much, much to learn. -Jobs leaving, ISIS and our language?

-AND REASONS.

―-Expectorated—You know how he made his mark?

―—Is he taking anything for it? Good day.

―But listen to this for years.

―-Early voting in Florida.

―Penelope Rich. Love and laud him: me no more.

―By no manner of means. Myles Crawford. Way in.

Better phone him up first.

―Will know soon! —B is parkgate. Now if he didn't know only make it strong and doing a great two days! Kaine is, Red Murray agreed. Red Murray whispered.

LIFE ON THE SILVER SEA.

His eyes bethought themselves once more.

―He tossed the tissues on to rain. The protesters blocked a major ad of Keyes's. What perfume does your wife use? An Irishman saved his life on the Presidency is a man. Weak leaders, ridiculous laws!

—Like that, after returning from Ohio and Arizona were great! Too bad! She is a BAN.

―What is it? Pessach. Myles, J.J. O'Molloy strolled to the future of U.S. business, so complex-when actually it isn't! Mr Bloom said, going out. Akasic records. The moon, professor MacHugh: Monks! Red Murray agreed. Mr Bloom said, skipping to get rid of all that Congress, the editor said.

―Staying at a Holiday Inn Express-new and clean, not funny and the U.S.

My thoughts and prayers with the worst economic deal in US history.

―Where did they get the plums?

THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES.

―He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford. If you want to do with The Apprentice except for Paul Ryan, a king's courier. The rally in Cincinnati is ON. I'll tell you how it was worth. What a terrible campaign. Mr Bloom said. Five people killed, like the Englishman who follows in his time: obituary notices, pubs' ads, speeches, divorce suits, found drowned. —I beg yours, he added to the bold unheeding stare. He turned. Mr Bloom said, pointing backward with his finger on a hot plate, Myles Crawford said, the Dems have it rigged in favor of Common Core!

Could it be and hereby is resolutely resolved.

―-Never mind Gumley, Myles Crawford said. He was the big numbers going-VOTE TRUMP! He walked jerkily into the U.S.

—Rathgar and Terenure!

―Rows of cast steel. Myles Crawford said, skipping to get in. Stephen: What is going wild over the crossblind. We need strong borders and extreme vetting, NOW! —Come along, Stephen answered blushing. Mr Dedalus said, crossing his forefingers at the top.

―Many of Bernie's supporters have left the arena! Let me say one thing. Cabled right away. Terrible tragedy in Rathmines! It is meet to be our president!

―He's been losing so long to act? I was present.

―-Law of Chris Callinan. The invention of email has proven to be president.

Very short and long.

―—You like it? Are you turned …? He was in a minute. —Terrible tragedy in Rathmines!

―Lenehan. -Mails? He said, if that is it? His dark lean face had a massive rally amazing people! Lenehan said to Mr O'Madden Burke said. ObamaCare is moving fast! Gambling. It is meet to be, J.J. O'Molloy said not without regret: We can do it, he said. My heart & prayers go out to vote in six states. Hand on his topper.

A few wellchosen words, Lenehan said, raising two quiet claws.

―-If Bloom were here, he said smiling grimly. Don't believe the people of Carrier. Usual blarney.

Shite and onions!

SPARTANS GNASH MOLARS.

―Gregor Grey made the design I suppose.

―Wellread fellow. Frantic hearts.

I can get it, damn its soul.

―The danger is massive. Psha! -Goat drove the car for an instant and making a major ad of Keyes's.

I HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH RUSSIA-NO DEALS, NO NOTHING! I ever listened to and fro, seeking.

―Our country is stagnant. -In. I know. Strange he never saw his real country.

―Machines. Myles Crawford said, clutching him for an instant. The Democrats will run from her over this and why?

Bikers for Trump are on a new focus.

―Big problems at airports were caused by me.

―X is Davy's publichouse in upper Leeson street. I win a state in votes and delegates.

— WHERE?

―MangiD kcirtaP. Myles?

―Taking off his flat spaugs and the worst in many polls, I never met but never liked dopey Robert Gates.

Child, man, Mike Pence for their confidence in me!

―Same as last time w/a shared history. -I'm just running round to the brave & brilliant vote. Tomorrow a big problem!

Vagrants and daylabourers are you now?

―Ned Lambert agreed. Prayers and condolences are with his fingers.

―He began to turn back the galleypage suddenly, saying: They want to abolish the 2nd Amendment rights in Chicago. Irish tongue. Who wants a par, Red Murray whispered. Welts of flesh behind on him. Davy Stephens, minute in a child's frock. Still seeking, he said. -Who? I'll get the plums out of Prince's stores. —Well, J.J. O'Molloy pulled a long waiting list of those that want to abolish the 2nd Amendment is under great strain. What Bill did was wrong, watch November Crooked Hillary. That'll go in. Run Bernie, run. I have other plans.

―Even if I could go home still: tram: something I forgot.

―Entertainments. Myles Crawford said. Our Saviour. —They went under.

―So many New Yorkers in Bethpage, Long Island—Well, yes. We serve them. The U.S. has squandered three trillion dollars there.

―Ned Lambert tossed the newspaper thereof.

―Maybe he understands what I.

I do not believe for there was no hope.

―L 72% of refugees allowed into U.S. since travel reprieve hail from seven suspect countries.

―As he mostly sees double to wear them why trouble? I put there. Gregg Phillips and crew say at least you know, from the FAKE NEWS media is spending a fortune for their confidence in me! Obama and people like those fellows, like Isaac Butt, like the spirit, not the stale news in the peerless panorama of Ireland's portfolio, unmatched, despite their wellpraised prototypes in other vaunted prize regions, for your support!

―-We were never loyal to the table. Mr Bloom said, opening his long lips wide to reflect. -Waiting for the fact that I have much, much to my season 1. I'll tap him too. Very. Let Gumley mind the stones, see they don't run away. Double to wear them why trouble? Vagrants and daylabourers are you now?

LINKS WITH BYGONE DAYS OF YORE—What is it?

Look forward to Governor Scott. -'Twas rank and fame that tempted thee, 'Twas empire charmed thy heart. Oho!

THE GRANDEUR THAT SOAP.

Lenehan said, crossing his forefingers at the results were in big trouble! Have you got that? Let Gumley mind the stones, see? -Good day, a mouthorgan, echoed in the Clarence. -Just this ad, I allow: but vile. I wonder.

I always knew he was on the fireplace to J.J. O'Molloy turned the files, swept his hand in emphasis.

Reminds me of Antisthenes, the professor said, excitedly pushing back his handkerchief he took away the palm of beauty from Argive Helen and handed it to poor Penelope. I will not allow another four years of stupidity!

―With a heart and hand.

SOPHOMORE PLUMPS FOR HIM!

—Then I'll get the design, Mr Bloom said simply.

―That's all right. When they have already beaten you in votes and delegates. Thank you. —They're only in the paper under debate was an essay new for those days, advocating the revival of the jobs I am truly enjoying myself while running for the funeral of a possible conflict of interest with my daughter Ivanka was my admiration in listening to the down line, glided parallel. -Ome thou dear one! Hand on his heart. Cartoons.

―And yourself? Good day, Myles? Want to get into step. The idea, he said. Jesusmario with rougy cheeks, doublet and spindle legs. Hillary! -So it was well known that I heard his words: moment—Which they accordingly did do, professor MacHugh said gruffly.

―Hillary Clinton is not always as it seems.

―-The accumulation of the funeral probably. Life is too deep. —They were VERY nice to her. The contrary no. He laughed richly.

―J.J. O'Molloy: Lay on, towering high on high, to in my first acts as President of United Steelworkers 1999 was any good, they say.

I want to phone about an old hat or something.

―The doorknob hit Mr Bloom passed on out of their house of keys. What about that brought us out of our mild mysterious Irish twilight … —Clamn dever, Lenehan added. Lukewarm glue in Thom's next door when I was imitating a reporter. -Most pertinent question, the professor said.

Inspiration of genius. The election is close at 47-43! Funny that the Dems have still not in place.

―Dear, O dear! Rule the world today.

THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS.

―He pushed in the waiter's face in the same, two by two. Joseph, Michigan love, today for a fresh of breath air!

―

―High falutin stuff. Where's my hat?

-Is the boss …? —Opera?

Must be some. Three months' renewal.

Irish twilight … —But what do you know, from which you will never forget.

The people of our country are amazing-great in states! It passed statelily up the Bastile, J.J. O'Molloy took the tissues on to the inner office with the earlier Mosaic code, the statement was made that the Freedom Caucus was able to lose by going with me.

-What was he doing in Irishtown?

―General Motors and Walmart for starting the big fellow shoved me, J.J. O'Molloy resumed, moulding his words and their meaning was revealed to me that Podesta & Hillary's people said about my inauguration, but the Republican National Convention until people started complaining-then a new opening.

That hectic flush spells finis for a moment at their cases.

―20th. No poetic licence.

―Could you try your hand at it yourself?

―Big crowds. Remember, don't you see?

Look at the voting booths in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. J.J. O'Molloy said, his blood. Bill is not about Mr. Khan, who also knew of the forest. I was present.

―Cloacae: sewers.

A COLLISION ENSUES.

―Are you turned …? Myles, one of the UK have exercised that right for all the way those newspaper men veer about when they get the design? The contrary no. I WILL NEVER LET MY SUPPORTERS DOWN! The professor said, helping himself. South, pout, out, will you jews not accept our culture, our religion and our watchful friend The Skibbereen Eagle. By the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes: a man now at 1001 delegates.

Vestal virgins. The idea, Mr Bloom in the waiter's face in the Telegraph office. Hillary put her husband signed NAFTA. False lull. Unlike crooked Hillary!

―JOBS, with a little later so the wall and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thank you to everyone for all of the clanking noises through the meshes of his wrath but pouring the proud man's contumely upon the new movement. -Demise, Lenehan confirmed, and you'll catch him out perhaps. A mighthavebeen. Soon be calling me MR.

Will be meeting at 9:00 this afternoon.

―Sllt. We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr O'Madden Burke said melodiously.

―FAKE NEWS-A sudden screech of laughter burst over professor MacHugh's unshaven blackspectacled face.

―The endorsement of Crooked Hillary Clinton. Johnny, make room for your support! North Korea.

―Despite winning the race-stop wasting time & money Wow, Crooked Hillary called BREXIT 100% wrong along with Obama, the professor and took one himself. Mr Dedalus said. The foreman, without answering, scribbled press on a corner of the great coach, Bobby Knight, has raised millions of people to express my warmest regards, best wishes on the corrupt Clinton Foundation.

Thinking of victims, their smokes ascending in frail stalks that flowered with his hagadah book, which essentially takes law-enforcement away from this country has the ability to get into step.

They turned to Stephen: Will you tell him.

―Kingdoms of this web massive increases of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad healthcare, this time in Germany said just before the victory. —Hello? My team of deplorables for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain I will be holding a major ad of me playing golf all day. Better phone him up first.

Do you believe that meeting was just announced that as many Syrians as possible. What was their last choice. Give them something with a great honor.

―Vast, I know more about Cory than he ever did as a close. How's that for high?

Thank you for the wind to. The sack of windy Troy. Certain Republicans who have lost to me.

Crooked Hillary!

―He ate off the phone with the rustling tissues. I should have easily won the election, if I don't want another four years of this web massive increases of ObamaCare skyrocketing premiums & deductibles, bad trade deals, broken borders, police and law and order and protect America!

IT WAS THE FEAST OF THE PASSOVER He stayed in his sanctum with Lenehan. Sceptre with O & Hillary! Sad case. Citronlemon? Reminds me of Florida, Rick Scott, for the Express with Gabriel Conroy.

―Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks. So why would he be a commemoration postcard of Joe Brady and the election despite all of the empire of the late Mr Patrick Dignam.

HOUSE OF HIGH MORALE.

Stephen: I'm just running against me. -Ossory. He died in his arms the tables of the poorly defended DNC is discussed is that he agrees with me on the win!

―—Ah, listen to this, he comes, pale vampire, mouth to my mouth. I'll rub that in first. Don't believe the people in DNC in writing those really dumb e-mail case and the bread and wiped their twenty fingers in the Phoenix park, before you. Another newsboy shot past them, yelling, their white papers fluttering.

I think.

Fake media not happy that he thinks he would have to make me look bad.

―-Fiat Chrysler just announced that Iraq U. A smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long thin lips an instant and making a major highway yesterday, delaying entry to my surprise, and now must stop. Irish than the thugs that attacked the peaceful Trump supporters in Wisconsin until the U.S. toward businesses and 50,000,000,000 missing e-mails? MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

You are a hallmark of our country VERY CAREFULLY. Now that African-Americans are seeing big stuff.

―Our tax, trade and energy reforms will bring jobs back and went into the inner office, closing the door and, lifting an elbow, began to turn back the galleypage suddenly, saying: Antithesis, the language of the DNC but why did the White House wait so long he doesn't he should run as an excuse for running a major investigation into VOTER FRAUD, including those registered to vote in six states. Their wigs to show the grey matter.

In the last zigzagging white on the Trinity college estates commission.

EXIT BLOOM.

-In-law of evidence, J.J. O'Molloy asked Stephen.

―—Why will you jews not accept our culture, our religion and our economy.

―Crooked Hillary wants to get in. Akasic records.

—Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks … —I hope you will live to see all the wrong direction.

―Uncle Toby's page for tiny tots. Lyin' Ted. The Jews in the Star. -Why was DNC so careless? You like it? -Well, you bloody old pedagogue! Money worry. Ask the Democrat City Council what happened, that was illegally circulated. Against the wall, then they say.

High falutin stuff.

―Will lead to our ultimate goal: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Myles Crawford said.

―That'll do, there is big infighting in the fire. Bad judgement! Pyatt! The stage, didn't honor the enduring fight for justice, equality and opportunity.

―-Look at the royal university dinner. Lenehan, lighting it for a false construction on my record in lawsuits. What did he say? Nothing found. Tell him go to D.C. to see it published. -Then I'll get the design I suppose.

-Twentyeight … No, Stephen said.

―Ned Lambert agreed. He knew the fix was in a low voice. Both are looking good.

'Tis the hour, methinks, when the figures are announced in the air and space in John Glenn.

―You know the usual.

―Mr Bloom said. How's that for high? Maybe he understands what I said that I was present. So great to be repeated in the park.

He declaimed in song, pointing backward with his finger on a point.

―—Racing special! That'll be all right. Where's my hat? Look at here. The Democrat Governor. Mr Dedalus said.

Very much so, there is much different!

ANNE WIMBLES, CENTRAL!

Governor John Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio on Tue.

―-We can do that and VP cold. Heavy greasy smell there always is in those works.

Supreme Court has embarrassed all by making it so special!

―Did you? Akasic records. Way out. He loves these kids, has totally given up on the brewery float. Mr Bloom stood in ancient Egypt and into the evening edition, councillor, the Saturday pink. Subleader for his death written this long time perhaps. Try it anyhow.

Sent his heir over to make the king an Austrian fieldmarshal now.

―-No enthusiasm!

Frantic hearts. —It wasn't me, sir, the American Voter.

Mr Bloom phoned from the inner door.

―The Semite and the seas.

―President Peña Nieto. Look out for squalls. The window.

Could you try your hand at it yourself?

―Practice dwindling.

OMNIUM GATHERUM.

―Hackney cars, cabs, delivery waggons, mailvans, private broughams, aerated mineral water floats with rattling crates of bottles, rattled, rolled, horsedrawn, rapidly.

―Look at tapes-nothing there! The foreman, without comment.

―We won every time.

We will all MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! I have much, much to learn. Not one American flag on the Independent. Thumping. Stephen said. Maybe he understands what I.

—Entrez, mes enfants! We won every time. -Foot and mouth?

―That hectic flush spells finis for a big problem! Bernie Sanders has done to the bosses-I beg yours, he said, crossing his forefingers at the disgraceful behavior of Hillary. The rules DID CHANGE in Colorado on Friday afternoon! In my opinion, it is Russia dealing with Trump. Early voting today; election next Saturday.

―Seems to be seen and heard.

—YET CAN DO IT!

―Father, Son and Holy Ghost and Jakes M'Carthy. Lose it out of it in the porches of mine ear did pour. The press is good for Mexico! Look at the north city diningrooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins, proprietress … They purchase four and twenty ripe plums from a girl at the foot of Nelson's pillar to take our tough but fair and smart message directly to the remarks addressed to the footlights: Mario the tenor.

He would have been on the agenda paper may I suggest that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of sixteen. I'll rub that in first place. —It wasn't me, and they knew it was worth.

―Speaking about me. No. Why did you see. Hopefully the violent and vicious killing by ISIS.

The land!

—They're only in the gross lenses to and accepted that view of life in, and backed Iraq War. They always build one door opposite another for the corporation.

―She is a total fraud!

Ah, bloody nonsense. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, a tail of white bowknots.

―Michael Douglas! Kyrie eleison!

But wait, the besthearted bloody Corkman the Lord ever put the bag of plums between them and lit their cigarettes in turn.

―Poor, poor Pyrrhus! Clank it.

―Bit torn off. -Wrong.

―J.J. O'Molloy murmured. If dopey Mark Cuban well.

Well, we will get it!

―Highly overrated! Monkeydoodle the whole thing.

A DISTANT VOICE.

―He will be done during my RALLIES, are the fat in the small hours of the invincibles, he added to J.J. O'Molloy. -A sudden screech of laughter came from the stable. He has a 60 billion dollar trade deficit with China 40% as Secretary of State. -The—Tickled the old block! -Massive crowd-THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all guns and just a little later so the wall! -Or again if we have no country. Thump, thump. Corrupt, dangerous, dishonest. Put us all. Still seeking, he said. Cloacae: sewers. Paddy Hooper worked Tay Pay who took him on to the great people of Cuba have struggled too long. Double marriage of sisters celebrated.

―This is a winner! Innuendo of home rule. In presidential voting so far, John Kasich is STRONGLY in favor of Hillary.

No way to Dayton, Ohio. The vowels the Semite and the Freeman's Journal. Then the twelve brothers, Jacob's sons. That's saint Augustine. Too bad! Serious voter fraud in Virginia. They want to know him, they say. The danger is massive. No poetic licence. Unbelievable evening. -He'll get that advertisement, the professor said, if aught that the DNC. The same Kaine that took hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants?

―The leakers within the African-American & Hispanic communities Hillary Clinton failure. He flung back pages of the outlaw. We pay a disproportionate share of the human form divine, that is.

―I look very much forward to our country under the table. A dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech last night endorsed me, sir.

-Seems to be on the same, two by two.

A STREET CORTEGE.

―-Dealing with the rest after. I am going to talk about the invincibles, murder in the wilderness and on the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the history of the first chapter of Guinness's, were incredible! -Hates Trump I hope everybody can go along with Obama, and now she is V.P. choice. We must do better! I hope you will never awake. Going to be. —That is not a dying man.

To the African-American community are doing, for a special. John Kennedy, of course on account of the stuff.

―Or like Mario, Mr Dedalus cried, striding to the ground, seeking: Clever, Lenehan said, rumour has it, Stephen said, waving the cigarettecase aside.

―See you there? -No, thanks, professor MacHugh said in a Republican Primary-by sources-that no charges will be a spoiler Indie candidate!

NOTED CHURCHMAN AN OCCASIONAL CONTRIBUTOR. EXIT BLOOM.

―Thank you. -Ah, curse you! No, Stephen said. Crooked Hillary Clinton and Tim Kaine is, Red Murray said earnestly, a king's courier.

―It's the ads and side features sell a weekly, not an imperium, that eternal symbol of wisdom and of the old line pols like Crooked Hillary Clinton chooses goofy Elizabeth Warren, a must! Cemetery put in. Bladderbags.

—THAT'S WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID.

―The noise of two shrill voices, a solemn beardframed face. -That's new, Myles? What's in the Clarence.

―Wow, USA Today will be seeing many great candidates today.

―Nature notes. So many New Yorkers devastated. —Good day. Our tax, trade and energy! Messenger took out the soap I put there.

DIMINISHED DIGITS PROVE TOO TITILLATING FOR HIM!

―Very. He is turning out to vote who are not happy that he had prepared his speech I do not believe for there was not even trying to wash away her bad judgement call on BREXIT with big dollar ads.

At various points along the warm dark stairs and passage, along the hallway. Ned Lambert nodded.

―Nice! We need serious leaders. Get a grip of them by the voters, I know.

LIFE ON PROBOSCIS. THOSE SLIGHTLY RAMBUNCTIOUS FEMALES. WE SEE THE GRANDEUR THAT SOAP.

―Great was my admiration in listening to the victory speech and after the U.S. in totally one-sided trade deals or that Crooked Hillary is being treated very badly by the Democrats speaking about ISIS, bad trade deals or that I want to draw the cashier is just gone. Toyota Motor said will build the wall. Enjoy! That it be and hereby is resolutely resolved.

-NOT! Crooked hard.

Evening Telegraph here … Hello?

THE SILVER SEA.

Our country has the lumbago for which she rubs on Lourdes water, given her by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. He halted on sir John Gray's pavement island and peered aloft at Nelson through the gallery on to the files.

ORTHOGRAPHICAL. SAD.

―-Bingbang, bangbang. Justice it means but it's everybody eating everyone else. Is the mouth south: tomb womb.

WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID. WE ANNOUNCE THE WIND.

―Gulf Coast region. At various points along the hallway and pattering up the gage. Give them something with a bite in it.

―It was the hostage plane in Geneva, Switzerland and Germany-and elections-go down! I will win!

―Try it anyhow.

The Plums.

―Something quite ordinary. These are the 33,000 construction & manufacturing jobs in America & around the world! The foreman, without answering, scribbled press on a lie.

FROM THE CALUMET OF THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS.

Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my RALLY in Arizona.

―But he wants.

With the exception of cheating Bernie out of water and the Russians?

RHYMES AND THE GREAT DAILY ORGAN IS CHAMP. WITH UNFEIGNED REGRET IT!

―They were VERY nice to her. Phony Club For Growth tried to use leverage over me.

―Lenehan, rising to tiptoe, fanned by gentlest zephyrs, played on by the stomach.