Улисс

           Nightmarefromwhichyouwillneverawake.

           —Isawit,theeditorsaidproudly.Iwaspresent.DickAdams,thebestheartedbloodyCorkmantheLordeverputthebreathoflifein,andmyself.

           Lenehanbowedtoashapeofair,announcing:

           —Madam,I’mAdam.AndAblewasIereIsawElba.

           —History!MylesCrawfordcried.TheOldWomanofPrince’sstreetwastherefirst.Therewasweepingandgnashingofteethoverthat.Outofanadvertisement.GregorGreymadethedesignforit.Thatgavehimthelegup.ThenPaddyHooperworkedTayPaywhotookhimontotheStar.Nowhe’sgotinwithBlumenfeld.That’spress.That’stalent.Pyatt!Hewasalltheirdaddies!

           —Thefatherofscarejournalism,Lenehanconfirmed,andthebrother-in-lawofChrisCallinan.

           —Hello?...Areyouthere?...Yes,he’sherestill.Comeacrossyourself.

           —Wheredoyoufindapressmanlikethatnow,eh?theeditorcried.

           Heflungthepagesdown.

           —Clamndever,LenehansaidtoMrO’MaddenBurke.

           —Verysmart,MrO’MaddenBurkesaid.

           ProfessorMacHughcamefromtheinneroffice.

           —Talkingabouttheinvincibles,hesaid,didyouseethatsomehawkerswereupbeforetherecorder...

           —Oyes,J.J.O’Molloysaideagerly.LadyDudleywaswalkinghomethroughtheparktoseeallthetreesthatwereblowndownbythatcyclonelastyearandthoughtshe’dbuyaviewofDublin.AnditturnedouttobeacommemorationpostcardofJoeBradyorNumberOneorSkin-the-Goat.Rightoutsidetheviceregallodge,imagine!

           —They’reonlyinthehookandeyedepartment,MylesCrawfordsaid.