Улисс

           And,saysMrDixon,ifeverhegotscentofacattleraiderinRoscommonorthewildsofConnemaraorahusbandmaninSligothatwassowingasmuchasahandfulofmustardorabagofrapeseedouthe’drunamokoverhalfthecountrysiderootingupwithhishornswhateverwasplantedandallbylordHarry’sorders.Therewasbadbloodbetweenthematfirst,saysMrVincent,andthelordHarrycalledfarmerNicholasalltheoldNicksintheworldandanoldwhoremasterthatkeptseventrullsinhishouseandI’llmeddleinhismatters,sayshe.I’llmakethatanimalsmellhell,sayshe,withthehelpofthatgoodpizzlemyfatherleftme.Butoneevening,saysMrDixon,whenthelordHarrywascleaninghisroyalpelttogotodinnerafterwinningaboatrace(hehadspadeoarsforhimselfbutthefirstruleofthecoursewasthattheothersweretorowwithpitchforks)hediscoveredinhimselfawonderfullikenesstoabullandonpickingupablackthumbedchapbookthathekeptinthepantryhefoundsureenoughthathewasalefthandeddescendantofthefamouschampionbulloftheRomans,BosBovum,whichisgoodbogLatinforbossoftheshow.Afterthat,saysMrVincent,thelordHarryputhisheadintoacow’sdrinkingtroughinthepresenceofallhiscourtiersandpullingitoutagaintoldthemallhisnewname.