Page 242 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

YOU CAN DO IT

!
The editor laid a nervous hand on Stephen’s shoulder.
—I want you to write something for me, he said.
Something with a bite in it. You can do it. I see it in your

face. In the lexicon of youth ...
See it in your face. See it in your eye. Lazy idle little
schemer.
—Foot and mouth disease! the editor cried in scornful
invective. Great nationalist meeting in Borris-in-Ossory.
All balls! Bulldosing the public! Give them something with
a bite in it. Put us all into it, damn its soul. Father, Son
and Holy Ghost and Jakes M’Carthy.
—We can all supply mental pabulum, Mr O’Madden
Burke said.
Stephen raised his eyes to the bold unheeding stare.
—He wants you for the pressgang, J. J. O’Molloy said.

THE GREAT GALLAHER

—You can do it, Myles Crawford repeated, clenching
his hand in emphasis. Wait a minute. We’ll paralyse
Europe as Ignatius Gallaher used to say when he was on
the shaughraun, doing billiardmarking in the Clarence.

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