Улісс
Chapter 9
Gob,he’dletyoupourallmannerofdrinkdownhisthroattilltheLordwouldcallhimbeforeyou’deverseethefrothofhispint.AndonenightIwentinwithafellowintooneoftheirmusicalevenings,songanddanceaboutshecouldgetuponatrussofhayshecouldmyMaureenLayandtherewasafellowwithaBallyhoolyblueribbonbadgespiffingoutofhiminIrishandalotofcolleenbawnsgoingaboutwithtemperancebeveragesandsellingmedalsandorangesandlemonadeandafewolddrybuns,gob,flahoolaghentertainment,don’tbetalking.IrelandsoberisIrelandfree.Andthenanoldfellowstartsblowingintohisbagpipesandallthegougersshufflingtheirfeettothetunetheoldcowdiedof.Andoneortwoskypilotshavinganeyearoundthattherewasnogoingsonwiththefemales,hittingbelowthebelt.
Sohowandever,asIwassaying,theolddogseeingthetinwasemptystartsmousingaroundbyJoeandme.I’dtrainhimbykindness,soIwould,ifhewasmydog.Givehimarousingfinekicknowandagainwhereitwouldn’tblindhim.
—Afraidhe’llbiteyou?saysthecitizen,jeering.
—No,saysI.Buthemighttakemylegforalamppost.
Sohecallstheolddogover.
—What’sonyou,Garry?sayshe.
ThenhestartshaulingandmaulingandtalkingtohiminIrishandtheoldtowsergrowling,lettingontoanswer,likeaduetintheopera.Suchgrowlingyouneverheardastheyletoffbetweenthem.Someonethathasnothingbettertodooughttowritealetterprobonopublicotothepapersaboutthemuzzlingorderforadogthelikeofthat.
