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A man passes a day in early twentieth-century Dublin, in a journey patterned on Homer’s Odyssey.

Page 143 of 872
Table of Contents

Chapter 6

―I hope not, Martin Cunningham said. That will be a great race tomorrow in Germany. The Gordon Bennett.

―Yes, by Jove, Mr Dedalus said. That will be worth seeing, faith.

As they turned into Berkeley street a streetorgan near the Basin sent over and after them a rollicking rattling song of the halls. Has anybody here seen Kelly? Kay ee double ell wy. Dead march from Saul . He’s as bad as old Antonio. He left me on my ownio. Pirouette! The Mater Misericordiae . Eccles street. My house down there. Big place. Ward for incurables there. Very encouraging. Our Lady’s Hospice for the dying. Deadhouse handy underneath. Where old Mrs Riordan died. They look terrible the women. Her feeding cup and rubbing her mouth with the spoon. Then the screen round her bed for her to die. Nice young student that was dressed that bite the bee gave me. He’s gone over to

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