Page 532 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

—Not taking anything between drinks, says I.
—What about paying our respects to our friend? says
Joe.
—Who? says I. Sure, he’s out in John of God’s off his

head, poor man.
—Drinking his own stuff? says Joe.
—Ay, says I. Whisky and water on the brain.
—Come around to Barney Kiernan’s, says Joe. I want
to see the citizen.
—Barney mavourneen’s be it, says I. Anything strange
or wonderful, Joe?
—Not a word, says Joe. I was up at that meeting in the
City Arms.
—-What was that, Joe? says I.
—Cattle traders, says Joe, about the foot and mouth
disease. I want to give the citizen the hard word about it.
So we went around by the Linenhall barracks and the
back of the courthouse talking of one thing or another.
Decent fellow Joe when he has it but sure like that he
never has it. Jesus, I couldn’t get over that bloody foxy
Geraghty, the daylight robber. For trading without a
licence, says he.
In Inisfail the fair there lies a land, the land of holy
Michan. There rises a watchtower beheld of men afar.

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