Lenehan gave a loud cough.

―Ahem! he said very softly. O, for a fresh of breath air! I caught a cold in the park. The gate was open.

«You Can Do It!»

The editor laid a nervous hand on Stephen’s shoulder.

―I want you to write something for me, he said. Something with a bite in it. You can do it. I see it in your face. In the lexicon of youth⁠ ⁠…

See it in your face. See it in your eye. Lazy idle little schemer.

―Foot and mouth disease! the editor cried in scornful invective. Great nationalist meeting in Borris-in-Ossory. All balls! Bulldosing the public! Give them something with a bite in it. Put us all into it, damn its soul. Father, Son and Holy Ghost and Jakes M’Carthy.