-- which they accordingly did do， lenehan said. our old ancient ancestors， as we read in the first chapter of guinness's， were partial to the running stream.
-- they were nature's gentlemen， j.j. o'molloy murmured. but we have also roman law.
-- and pontius pilate is its prophet， professor machugh responded.
-- do you know that story about chief baron palles？ j.j. o'molloy asked. it was at the royal university dinner. everything was going swimmingly.
-- first my riddle， lenehan said. are you ready？
mr o'madden burke， tall in copious grey of donegal tweed， came in from the hallway. stephen dedalus， behind him， uncovered as he entered.
-- entrez， mes enfants！ lenehan cried.
-- i escort a suppliant， mr o'madden burke said melodiously. youth led by experience visits notoriety.
-- how do you do？ the editor said， holding out a hand. come in. your governor is just gone.
？ ？ ？
lenehan said to all：
-- silence！ what opera resembles a railway line？ reflect， ponder， excogitate， reply.
stephen handed over the typed sheets， pointing to the title and signature.
-- who？ the editor asked.
bit torn off.
-- mr garrett deasy， stephen said：
-- that old pelters， the editor said. who tore it？ was he short taken.
on swift sail flaming
from storm and south
he comes， pale vampire，
mouth to my mouth.
-- good day， stephen， the professor said， coming to peer over their shoulders. foot and mouth？ are you turned... ？
bullockbefriending bard.
shindy in wellknown restaurant
-- good day， sir， stephen answered， blushing. the letter is not mine. mr garrett deasy asked me to...
-- o， i know him， myles crawford said， and knew his wife too. the bloodiest old tartar god ever made. by jesus， she had the foot and mouth disease and no mistake！ the night she threw the soup in the waiter's face in the star and garter. oho！
a woman brought sin into the world. for helen， the runaway wife of menelaus， ten years the greeks. o'rourke， prince of breffni.
-- is he a widower？ stephen asked.
-- ay， a grass one， myles crawford said， his eye running down the typescript. emperor's horses. habsburg. an irishman saved his life on the ramparts of vienna. don't you forget！ maximilian karl o'donnell， graf von tirconnel in ireland. sent his heir over to make the king an austrian fieldmarshal now. going to be trouble there one day. wild geese. o yes， every time. don't you forget that！