Page 567 - ULYSSES
P. 567
Ulysses
drouth is in it and the hydrophobia dropping out of his
jaws.
All those who are interested in the spread of human
culture among the lower animals (and their name is
legion) should make a point of not missing the really
marvellous exhibition of cynanthropy given by the famous
old Irish red setter wolfdog formerly known by the
sobriquet of Garryowen and recently rechristened by his
large circle of friends and acquaintances Owen Garry. The
exhibition, which is the result of years of training by
kindness and a carefully thoughtout dietary system,
comprises, among other achievements, the recitation of
verse. Our greatest living phonetic expert (wild horses
shall not drag it from us!) has left no stone unturned in his
efforts to delucidate and compare the verse recited and has
found it bears a striking resemblance (the italics are ours) to
the ranns of ancient Celtic bards. We are not speaking so
much of those delightful lovesongs with which the writer
who conceals his identity under the graceful pseudonym
of the Little Sweet Branch has familiarised the bookloving
world but rather (as a contributor D. O. C. points out in
an interesting communication published by an evening
contemporary) of the harsher and more personal note
which is found in the satirical effusions of the famous
566 of 1305