Illustrating The Works Of James Joyce One Page At A Time
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#211 K.M.R.I.A
K.M.R.I.A. —He can kiss my royal Irish arse, Myles Crawford cried loudly over his shoulder. Any time he likes, tell him. While Mr Bloom stood weighing the point and about to smile he strode on...
#208 RETURN OF BLOOM
RETURN OF BLOOM —Yes, he said. I see them. Mr Bloom, breathless, caught in a whirl of wild newsboys near the offices of the Irish Catholic and Dublin Penny Journal, called: —Mr Crawford! A moment! —Telegraph! Racing special! —What is it? Myles Crawford said, falling...
#210 K.M.A.
K.M.A. —Will you tell him he can kiss my arse? Myles Crawford said throwing out his arm for emphasis. Tell him that straight from the stable. A bit nervy. Look out for squalls. All off for a drink. Arm in arm. Lenehan’s yachting cap on the cadge beyond. Usual blarney....
#207 LIFE ON THE RAW
LIFE ON THE RAW —They buy one and fourpenceworth of brawn and four slices of panloaf at the north city diningrooms in Marlborough street from Miss Kate Collins, proprietress… They purchase four and twenty ripe plums from a girl at the foot of Nelson’s pillar to take...
#209 INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR
INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR —Just this ad, Mr Bloom said, pushing through towards the steps, puffing, and taking the cutting from his pocket. I spoke with Mr Keyes just now. He’ll give a renewal for two months, he says. After he’ll see. But he wants a par to call...
#206 DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN
DEAR DIRTY DUBLIN Dubliners. —Two Dublin vestals, Stephen said, elderly and pious, have lived fifty and fiftythree years in Fumbally’s lane. —Where is that? the professor asked. —Off Blackpitts, Stephen said. Damp night reeking of hungry dough. Against the wall. Face...
Dubliners
Dubliners – AN ENCOUNTER – 5
When we were tired of this sight we wandered slowly into Ringsend. The day had grown sultry, and in the windows of the grocers’ shops musty biscuits lay bleaching. We bought some biscuits and chocolate which we ate sedulously as we wandered through the squalid streets...
Dubliners – AN ENCOUNTER – 2
“This page or this page? This page? Now, Dillon, up! ‘Hardly had the day’.... Go on! What day? ‘Hardly had the day dawned’.... Have you studied it? What have you there in your pocket?” Everyone’s heart palpitated as Leo Dillon handed up the paper and everyone assumed...
Dubliners – AN ENCOUNTER – 4
We came then near the river. We spent a long time walking about the noisy streets flanked by high stone walls, watching the working of cranes and engines and often being shouted at for our immobility by the drivers of groaning carts. It was noon when we reached the...
Dubliners – AN ENCOUNTER – 1
It was Joe Dillon who introduced the Wild West to us. He had a little library made up of old numbers of The Union Jack, Pluck and The Halfpenny Marvel. Every evening after school we met in his back garden and arranged Indian battles. He and his fat young brother Leo,...
Dubliners – AN ENCOUNTER – 3
That night I slept badly. In the morning I was first-comer to the bridge as I lived nearest. I hid my books in the long grass near the ashpit at the end of the garden where nobody ever came and hurried along the canal bank. It was a mild sunny morning in the first...
Dubliners – THE SISTERS – 7
She laid a finger against her nose and frowned: then she continued: “But still and all he kept on saying that before the summer was over he’d go out for a drive one fine day just to see the old house again where we were all born down in Irishtown and take me and...