―The blessings of God on you, Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from his chair. Sit down. Pour out the tea there. The sugar is in the bag. Here, I can’t go fumbling at the damned eggs. He hacked through the fry on the dish and slapped it out on three plates, saying:

― In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

Haines sat down to pour out the tea.

―I’m giving you two lumps each, he said. But, I say, Mulligan, you do make strong tea, don’t you?

Buck Mulligan, hewing thick slices from the loaf said in an old woman’s wheedling voice:

―When I makes tea I makes tea, as old mother Grogan said. And when I makes water I makes water.

―By Jove, it is tea, Haines said.

Buck Mulligan went on hewing and wheedling: