so thursday sixteenth june patk. dignam laid in clay of an apoplexy and after hard drought, please god, rained, a bargeman coming in by water a fifty mile or thereabout with turf saying the seed won't sprout, fields athirst, very sadcoloured and stunk mightily, the quags and tofts too. hard to breathe and all the young quicks clean consumed without sprinkle this long while back as no man remembered to be without. the rosy buds all gone brown and spread out blobs and on the hills nought but dry flags and faggots that would catch at first fire. all the world saying, for aught they knew, the big wind of last february a year that did havoc the land so pitifully a small thing beside this barrenness. but by and by, as said, this evening after sundown, the wind sitting in the west, biggish swollen clouds to be seen as the night increased and the weatherwise poring up at them and some sheet lightnings at first and after, past ten of the clock, one great stroke with a long thunder and in a brace of shakes all scamper pellmell within door for the smoking er, the men making shelter for their straws with a clout or kerchief, womenfolk skipping off with kirtles catched up soon as the pour came. in ely place, baggot street, duke's lawn, thence through merrion green up to holles street, a swash of water running that was before bonedry and not one chair or coach or fiacre seen about but no more crack after that first. over against the rt. hon. mr justice fitzgibbon's door (that is to sit with mr healy the lawyer upon the college lands) mal. mulligan a gentleman's gentleman that had but come from mr moore's the writer's (that was a papish but is now, folk say, a good williamite) chanced against alec. bannon in a cut bob (which are now in with dance cloaks of kendal green) that was new got to town from mullingar with the stage where his coz and mal m's brother will stay a month yet till saint swithin and asks what in the earth he does there, he bound home and he to andrew horne's being stayed for to crush a cup of wine, so he said, but would tell him of a skittish heifer, big of her age and beef to the heel and all this while poured with rain and so both together on to horne's. there leop. bloom of crawford's journal sitting snug with a covey of wags, likely brangling fellows, dixon jun., scholar of my lady of mercy, vin. lynch, a scots fellow, will. madden, t. lenehan, very sad for a racinghorse he fancied and stephen d. leop. bloom there for a languor he had but was now better, he having dreamed tonight a strange fancy of his dame mrs moll with red slippers on in pair of turkey trunks which is thought by those in ken to be for a change and
第142章（1 / 3）