Page 950 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

king at arms! Haihoop! (He makes the beagle’s call, giving
tongue) Bulbul! Burblblburblbl! Hai, boy!
(The fronds and spaces of the wallpaper file rapidly across

country. A stout fox, drawn from covert, brush pointed, having
buried his grandmother, runs swift for the open, brighteyed,
seeking badger earth, under the leaves. The pack of staghounds
follows, nose to the ground, sniffing their quarry, beaglebaying,
burblbrbling to be blooded. Ward Union huntsmen and
huntswomen live with them, hot for a kill. From Six Mile Point,
Flathouse, Nine Mile Stone follow the footpeople with knotty
sticks, hayforks, salmongaffs, lassos, flockmasters with stockwhips,
bearbaiters with tomtoms, toreadors with bullswords, greynegroes
waving torches. The crowd bawls of dicers, crown and anchor
players, thimbleriggers, broadsmen. Crows and touts, hoarse
bookies in high wizard hats clamour deafeningly.)
THE CROWD:

Card of the races. Racing card!
Ten to one the field!
Tommy on the clay here! Tommy on the
clay!
Ten to one bar one! Ten to one bar one!
Try your luck on Spinning Jenny!
Ten to one bar one!
Sell the monkey, boys! Sell the monkey!

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