Page 276 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

years ago: ninetyfour he died yes that’s right the big fire at
Arnott’s. Val Dillon was lord mayor. The Glencree dinner.
Alderman Robert O’Reilly emptying the port into his
soup before the flag fell. Bobbob lapping it for the inner

alderman. Couldn’t hear what the band played. For what
we have already received may the Lord make us. Milly
was a kiddy then. Molly had that elephantgrey dress with
the braided frogs. Mantailored with selfcovered buttons.
She didn’t like it because I sprained my ankle first day she
wore choir picnic at the Sugarloaf. As if that. Old
Goodwin’s tall hat done up with some sticky stuff. Flies’
picnic too. Never put a dress on her back like it. Fitted
her like a glove, shoulders and hips. Just beginning to
plump it out well. Rabbitpie we had that day. People
looking after her.
Happy. Happier then. Snug little room that was with
the red wallpaper. Dockrell’s, one and ninepence a dozen.
Milly’s tubbing night. American soap I bought:
elderflower. Cosy smell of her bathwater. Funny she
looked soaped all over. Shapely too. Now photography.
Poor papa’s daguerreotype atelier he told me of.
Hereditary taste.
He walked along the curbstone.

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