Портрет художника в юності

           MrDedaluspushedhisplateovertoStephenandbadehimfinishwhatwasonit.

           —Nowthen,Stephen,hesaid,youmustputyourshouldertothewheel,oldchap.You’vehadafinelongholiday.

           —O,I’msurehe’llworkveryhardnow,saidMrsDedalus,especiallywhenhehasMauricewithhim.

           —O,HolyPaul,IforgotaboutMaurice,saidMrDedalus.Here,Maurice!Comehere,youthick-headedruffian!DoyouknowI’mgoingtosendyoutoacollegewherethey’llteachyoutospellc.a.t.cat.AndI’llbuyyouanicelittlepennyhandkerchieftokeepyournosedry.Won’tthatbegrandfun?

           Mauricegrinnedathisfatherandthenathisbrother.

           MrDedalusscrewedhisglassintohiseyeandstaredhardatbothhissons.Stephenmumbledhisbreadwithoutansweringhisfather’sgaze.

           —Bythebye,saidMrDedalusatlength,therector,orprovincialrather,wastellingmethatstoryaboutyouandFatherDolan.You’reanimpudentthief,hesaid.

           —O,hedidn’t,Simon!

           —Nothe!saidMrDedalus.Buthegavemeagreataccountofthewholeaffair.Wewerechatting,youknow,andonewordborrowedanother.And,bytheway,whodoyouthinkhetoldmewillgetthatjobinthecorporation?ButI‘Iltellyouthatafter.Well,asIwassaying,wewerechattingawayquitefriendlyandheaskedmedidourfriendherewearglassesstill,andthenhetoldmethewholestory.