#213 SOME COLUMN!—THAT’S WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID

#213 SOME COLUMN!—THAT’S WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID

SOME COLUMN!—THAT’S WHAT WADDLER ONE SAID —That’s new, Myles Crawford said. That’s copy. Out for the waxies’ Dargle. Two old trickies, what? —But they are afraid the pillar will fall, Stephen went on. They see the roofs and argue about where the different churches...
#212 RAISING THE WIND

#212 RAISING THE WIND

RAISING THE WIND —Nulla bona, Jack, he said, raising his hand to his chin. I’m up to here. I’ve been through the hoop myself. I was looking for a fellow to back a bill for me no later than last week. Sorry, Jack. You must take the will for the deed. With a heart and a...
#211 K.M.R.I.A

#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 jerkily.
#210 K.M.A.

#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....
#209 INTERVIEW WITH THE EDITOR

#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...
#208 RETURN OF BLOOM

#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...