Портрет художника в юності

           Hegotupquicklytodressand,whenthesonghadended,said:

           —That’smuchprettierthananyofyourotherCOME-ALL-YOUS.

           —Doyouthinkso?askedMrDedalus.

           —Ilikeit,saidStephen.

           —It’saprettyoldair,saidMrDedalus,twirlingthepointsofhismoustache.Ah,butyoushouldhaveheardMickLacysingit!PoorMickLacy!Hehadlittleturnsforit,gracenotesthatheusedtoputinthatIhaven’tgot.ThatwastheboywhocouldsingaCOME-ALL-YOU,ifyoulike.

           MrDedalushadordereddrisheensforbreakfastandduringthemealhecross-examinedthewaiterforlocalnews.Forthemostparttheyspokeatcrosspurposeswhenanamewasmentioned,thewaiterhavinginmindthepresentholderandMrDedalushisfatherorperhapshisgrandfather.

           —Well,Ihopetheyhaven’tmovedtheQueen’sCollegeanyhow,saidMrDedalus,forIwanttoshowittothisyoungsterofmine.

           AlongtheMardykethetreeswereinbloom.Theyenteredthegroundsofthecollegeandwereledbythegarrulousporteracrossthequadrangle.Buttheirprogressacrossthegravelwasbroughttoahaltaftereverydozenorsopacesbysomereplyoftheporter’s.

           —Ah,doyoutellmeso?AndispoorPottlebellydead?

           —Yes,sir.Dead,sir.

           DuringthesehaltsStephenstoodawkwardlybehindthetwomen,wearyofthesubjectandwaitingrestlesslyfortheslowmarchtobeginagain.