Улісс

           MrDedalus,staringfromtheemptyfireplaceatNedLambert’squizzingface,askedofitsourly:

           —AgonisingChrist,wouldn’titgiveyouaheartburnonyourarse?

           NedLambert,seatedonthetable,readon:

           —Oragain,notethemeanderingsofsomepurlingrillasitbabblesonitsway,tho’quarrellingwiththestonyobstacles,tothetumblingwatersofNeptune’sbluedomain,’midmossybanks,fannedbygentlestzephyrs,playedonbytheglorioussunlightor’neaththeshadowscasto’eritspensivebosombytheoverarchingleafageofthegiantsoftheforest.Whataboutthat,Simon?heaskedoverthefringeofhisnewspaper.How’sthatforhigh?

           —Changinghisdrink,MrDedalussaid.

           NedLambert,laughing,struckthenewspaperonhisknees,repeating:

           —Thepensivebosomandtheoverarsingleafage.Oboys!Oboys!

           —AndXenophonlookeduponMarathon,MrDedalussaid,lookingagainonthefireplaceandtothewindow,andMarathonlookedonthesea.

           —Thatwilldo,professorMacHughcriedfromthewindow.Idon’twanttohearanymoreofthestuff.

           Heateoffthecrescentofwaterbiscuithehadbeennibblingand,hungered,madereadytonibblethebiscuitinhisotherhand.

           Highfalutinstuff.Bladderbags.NedLambertistakingadayoffIsee.Ratherupsetsaman’sday,afuneraldoes.Hehasinfluencetheysay.OldChatterton,thevicechancellor,ishisgranduncleorhisgreatgranduncle.Closeonninetytheysay.Subleaderforhisdeathwrittenthislongtimeperhaps.Livingtospitethem.Mightgofirsthimself.Johnny,makeroomforyouruncle.TherighthonourableHedgesEyreChatterton.