ArcaMax Publishing > Books > Fiction > Ulysses > Section 58
Ulysses

James Joyce

Section 58 of 74 - Table of Contents
This was a quandary but, bringing common sense to bear on it, evidently
there was nothing for it but put a good face on the matter and foot it
which they accordingly did. So, bevelling around by Mullett's and the
Signal House which they shortly reached, they proceeded perforce in the
direction of Amiens street railway terminus, Mr Bloom being handicapped
by the circumstance that one of the back buttons of his trousers had, to
vary the timehonoured adage, gone the way of all buttons though, entering
thoroughly into the spirit of the thing, he heroically made light of the
mischance. So as neither of them were particularly pressed for time, as
it happened, and the temperature refreshing since it cleared up after the
recent visitation of Jupiter Pluvius, they dandered along past by where
the empty vehicle was waiting without a fare or a jarvey. As it so
happened a Dublin United Tramways Company's sandstrewer happened to be
returning and the elder man recounted to his companion A PROPOS of the
incident his own truly miraculous escape of some little while back. They
passed the main entrance of the Great Northern railway station, the
starting point for Belfast, where of course all traffic was suspended at
that late hour and passing the backdoor of the morgue (a not very
enticing locality, not to say gruesome to a degree, more especially at
night) ultimately gained the Dock Tavern and in due course turned into
Store street, famous for its C division police station. Between this
point and the high at present unlit warehouses of Beresford place Stephen
thought to think of Ibsen, associated with Baird's the stonecutter's in
his mind somehow in Talbot place, first turning on the right, while the
other who was acting as his FIDUS ACHATES inhaled with internal
satisfaction the smell of James Rourke's city bakery, situated quite
close to where they were, the very palatable odour indeed of our daily
bread, of all commodities of the public the primary and most
indispensable. Bread, the staff of life, earn your bread, O tell me where
is fancy bread, at Rourke's the baker's it is said.

EN ROUTE to his taciturn and, not to put too fine a point on it, not yet
perfectly sober companion Mr Bloom who at all events was in complete
possession of his faculties, never more so, in fact disgustingly sober,
spoke a word of caution re the dangers of nighttown, women of ill fame
and swell mobsmen, which, barely permissible once in a while though not
as a habitual practice, was of the nature of a regular deathtrap for
young fellows of his age particularly if they had acquired drinking
habits under the influence of liquor unless you knew a little jiujitsu
for every contingency as even a fellow on the broad of his back could
administer a nasty kick if you didn't look out. Highly providential was
the appearance on the scene of Corny Kelleher when Stephen was blissfully
unconscious but for that man in the gap turning up at the eleventh hour
the finis might have been that he might have been a candidate for the
accident ward or, failing that, the bridewell and an appearance in the
court next day before Mr Tobias or, he being the solicitor rather, old
Wall, he meant to say, or Mahony which simply spelt ruin for a chap when
it got bruited about. The reason he mentioned the fact was that a lot of
those policemen, whom he cordially disliked, were admittedly unscrupulous
in the service of the Crown and, as Mr Bloom put it, recalling a case or
two in the A division in Clanbrassil street, prepared to swear a hole
through a ten gallon pot. Never on the spot when wanted but in quiet
parts of the city, Pembroke road for example, the guardians of the law
were well in evidence, the obvious reason being they were paid to protect
the upper classes. Another thing he commented on was equipping soldiers
with firearms or sidearms of any description liable to go off at any time
which was tantamount to inciting them against civilians should by any
chance they fall out over anything. You frittered away your time, he very
sensibly maintained, and health and also character besides which, the
squandermania of the thing, fast women of the DEMIMONDE ran away with a
lot of l.s.d. into the bargain and the greatest danger of all was who you
got drunk with though, touching the much vexed question of stimulants, he
relished a glass of choice old wine in season as both nourishing and
bloodmaking and possessing aperient virtues (notably a good burgundy
which he was a staunch believer in) still never beyond a certain point
where he invariably drew the line as it simply led to trouble all round
to say nothing of your being at the tender mercy of others practically.
Most of all he commented adversely on the desertion of Stephen by all his
pubhunting CONFRERES but one, a most glaring piece of ratting on the part
of his brother medicos under all the circs.

--And that one was Judas, Stephen said, who up to then had said nothing
whatsoever of any kind.

Discussing these and kindred topics they made a beeline across the back
of the Customhouse and passed under the Loop Line bridge where a brazier
of coke burning in front of a sentrybox or something like one attracted
their rather lagging footsteps. Stephen of his own accord stopped for no
special reason to look at the heap of barren cobblestones and by the
light emanating from the brazier he could just make out the darker figure
of the corporation watchman inside the gloom of the sentrybox. He began
to remember that this had happened or had been mentioned as having
happened before but it cost him no small effort before he remembered that
he recognised in the sentry a quondam friend of his father's, Gumley. To
avoid a meeting he drew nearer to the pillars of the railway bridge.

--Someone saluted you, Mr Bloom said.

A figure of middle height on the prowl evidently under the arches saluted
again, calling:

--NIGHT!

Stephen of course started rather dizzily and stopped to return the
compliment. Mr Bloom actuated by motives of inherent delicacy inasmuch as
he always believed in minding his own business moved off but nevertheless
remained on the QUI VIVE with just a shade of anxiety though not funkyish
in the least. Though unusual in the Dublin area he knew that it was not
by any means unknown for desperadoes who had next to nothing to live on
to be abroad waylaying and generally terrorising peaceable pedestrians by
placing a pistol at their head in some secluded spot outside the city
proper, famished loiterers of the Thames embankment category they might
be hanging about there or simply marauders ready to decamp with whatever
boodle they could in one fell swoop at a moment's notice, your money or
your life, leaving you there to point a moral, gagged and garrotted.

Stephen, that is when the accosting figure came to close quarters, though
he was not in an over sober state himself recognised Corley's breath
redolent of rotten cornjuice. Lord John Corley some called him and his
genealogy came about in this wise. He was the eldest son of inspector
Corley of the G division, lately deceased, who had married a certain
Katherine Brophy, the daughter of a Louth farmer. His grandfather Patrick
Michael Corley of New Ross had married the widow of a publican there
whose maiden name had been Katherine (also) Talbot. Rumour had it (though
not proved) that she descended from the house of the lords Talbot de
Malahide in whose mansion, really an unquestionably fine residence of its
kind and well worth seeing, her mother or aunt or some relative, a woman,
as the tale went, of extreme beauty, had enjoyed the distinction of being
in service in the washkitchen. This therefore was the reason why the
still comparatively young though dissolute man who now addressed Stephen
was spoken of by some with facetious proclivities as Lord John Corley.

Taking Stephen on one side he had the customary doleful ditty to tell.
Not as much as a farthing to purchase a night's lodgings. His friends had
all deserted him. Furthermore he had a row with Lenehan and called him to
Stephen a mean bloody swab with a sprinkling of a number of other
uncalledfor expressions. He was out of a job and implored of Stephen to
tell him where on God's earth he could get something, anything at all, to
do. No, it was the daughter of the mother in the washkitchen that was
fostersister to the heir of the house or else they were connected through
the mother in some way, both occurrences happening at the same time if
the whole thing wasn't a complete fabrication from start to finish.
Anyhow he was all in.

--I wouldn't ask you only, pursued he, on my solemn oath and God knows
I'm on the rocks.

--There'll be a job tomorrow or next day, Stephen told him, in a boys'
school at Dalkey for a gentleman usher. Mr Garrett Deasy. Try it. You may
mention my name.

--Ah, God, Corley replied, sure I couldn't teach in a school, man. I was
never one of your bright ones, he added with a half laugh. I got stuck
twice in the junior at the christian brothers.

--I have no place to sleep myself, Stephen informed him.

Corley at the first go-off was inclined to suspect it was something to do
with Stephen being fired out of his digs for bringing in a bloody tart
off the street. There was a dosshouse in Marlborough street, Mrs
Maloney's, but it was only a tanner touch and full of undesirables but
M'Conachie told him you got a decent enough do in the Brazen Head over in
Winetavern street (which was distantly suggestive to the person addressed
of friar Bacon) for a bob. He was starving too though he hadn't said a
word about it.

Though this sort of thing went on every other night or very near it still
Stephen's feelings got the better of him in a sense though he knew that
Corley's brandnew rigmarole on a par with the others was hardly deserving
of much credence. However HAUD IGNARUS MALORUM MISERIS SUCCURRERE DISCO
etcetera as the Latin poet remarks especially as luck would have it he
got paid his screw after every middle of the month on the sixteenth which
was the date of the month as a matter of fact though a good bit of the
wherewithal was demolished. But the cream of the joke was nothing would
get it out of Corley's head that he was living in affluence and hadn't a
thing to do but hand out the needful. Whereas. He put his hand in a
pocket anyhow not with the idea of finding any food there but thinking he
might lend him anything up to a bob or so in lieu so that he might
endeavour at all events and get sufficient to eat but the result was in
the negative for, to his chagrin, he found his cash missing. A few broken
biscuits were all the result of his investigation. He tried his hardest
to recollect for the moment whether he had lost as well he might have or
left because in that contingency it was not a pleasant lookout, very much
the reverse in fact. He was altogether too fagged out to institute a
thorough search though he tried to recollect. About biscuits he dimly
remembered. Who now exactly gave them he wondered or where was or did he
buy. However in another pocket he came across what he surmised in the
dark were pennies, erroneously however, as it turned out.

--Those are halfcrowns, man, Corley corrected him.

And so in point of fact they turned out to be. Stephen anyhow lent him
one of them.

--Thanks, Corley answered, you're a gentleman. I'll pay you back one
time. Who's that with you? I saw him a few times in the Bleeding Horse in
Camden street with Boylan, the billsticker. You might put in a good word
for us to get me taken on there. I'd carry a sandwichboard only the girl
in the office told me they're full up for the next three weeks, man. God,
you've to book ahead, man, you'd think it was for the Carl Rosa. I don't
give a shite anyway so long as I get a job, even as a crossing sweeper.

Subsequently being not quite so down in the mouth after the two and six
he got he informed Stephen about a fellow by the name of Bags Comisky
that he said Stephen knew well out of Fullam's, the shipchandler's,
bookkeeper there that used to be often round in Nagle's back with O'Mara
and a little chap with a stutter the name of Tighe. Anyhow he was lagged
the night before last and fined ten bob for a drunk and disorderly and
refusing to go with the constable.

Mr Bloom in the meanwhile kept dodging about in the vicinity of the
cobblestones near the brazier of coke in front of the corporation
watchman's sentrybox who evidently a glutton for work, it struck him, was
having a quiet forty winks for all intents and purposes on his own
private account while Dublin slept. He threw an odd eye at the same time
now and then at Stephen's anything but immaculately attired interlocutor
as if he had seen that nobleman somewhere or other though where he was
not in a position to truthfully state nor had he the remotest idea when.
Being a levelheaded individual who could give points to not a few in
point of shrewd observation he also remarked on his very dilapidated hat
and slouchy wearing apparel generally testifying to a chronic
impecuniosity. Palpably he was one of his hangerson but for the matter of
that it was merely a question of one preying on his nextdoor neighbour
all round, in every deep, so to put it, a deeper depth and for the matter
of that if the man in the street chanced to be in the dock himself penal
servitude with or without the option of a fine would be a very rara avis
altogether. In any case he had a consummate amount of cool assurance
intercepting people at that hour of the night or morning. Pretty thick
that was certainly.

The pair parted company and Stephen rejoined Mr Bloom who, with his
practised eye, was not without perceiving that he had succumbed to the
blandiloquence of the other parasite. Alluding to the encounter he said,
laughingly, Stephen, that is:

--He is down on his luck. He asked me to ask you to ask somebody named
Boylan, a billsticker, to give him a job as a sandwichman.

At this intelligence, in which he seemingly evinced little interest, Mr
Bloom gazed abstractedly for the space of a half a second or so in the
direction of a bucketdredger, rejoicing in the farfamed name of Eblana,
moored alongside Customhouse quay and quite possibly out of repair,
whereupon he observed evasively:

--Everybody gets their own ration of luck, they say. Now you mention it
his face was familiar to me. But, leaving that for the moment, how much
did you part with, he queried, if I am not too inquisitive?

--Half a crown, Stephen responded. I daresay he needs it to sleep
somewhere.

--Needs! Mr Bloom ejaculated, professing not the least surprise at the
intelligence, I can quite credit the assertion and I guarantee he
invariably does. Everyone according to his needs or everyone according to
his deeds. But, talking about things in general, where, added he with a
smile, will you sleep yourself? Walking to Sandycove is out of the
question. And even supposing you did you won't get in after what occurred
at Westland Row station. Simply fag out there for nothing. I don't mean
to presume to dictate to you in the slightest degree but why did you
leave your father's house?

--To seek misfortune, was Stephen's answer.

--I met your respected father on a recent occasion, Mr Bloom
diplomatically returned, today in fact, or to be strictly accurate, on
yesterday. Where does he live at present? I gathered in the course of
conversation that he had moved.

--I believe he is in Dublin somewhere, Stephen answered unconcernedly.
Why?

--A gifted man, Mr Bloom said of Mr Dedalus senior, in more respects than
one and a born RACONTEUR if ever there was one. He takes great pride,
quite legitimate, out of you. You could go back perhaps, he hasarded,
still thinking of the very unpleasant scene at Westland Row terminus when
it was perfectly evident that the other two, Mulligan, that is, and that
English tourist friend of his, who eventually euchred their third
companion, were patently trying as if the whole bally station belonged to
them to give Stephen the slip in the confusion, which they did.

There was no response forthcoming to the suggestion however, such as it
was, Stephen's mind's eye being too busily engaged in repicturing his
family hearth the last time he saw it with his sister Dilly sitting by
the ingle, her hair hanging down, waiting for some weak Trinidad shell
cocoa that was in the sootcoated kettle to be done so that she and he
could drink it with the oatmealwater for milk after the Friday herrings
they had eaten at two a penny with an egg apiece for Maggy, Boody and
Katey, the cat meanwhile under the mangle devouring a mess of eggshells
and charred fish heads and bones on a square of brown paper, in
accordance with the third precept of the church to fast and abstain on
the days commanded, it being quarter tense or if not, ember days or
something like that.

--No, Mr Bloom repeated again, I wouldn't personally repose much trust in
that boon companion of yours who contributes the humorous element, Dr
Mulligan, as a guide, philosopher and friend if I were in your shoes. He
knows which side his bread is buttered on though in all probability he
never realised what it is to be without regular meals. Of course you
didn't notice as much as I did. But it wouldn't occasion me the least
surprise to learn that a pinch of tobacco or some narcotic was put in
your drink for some ulterior object.

He understood however from all he heard that Dr Mulligan was a versatile
allround man, by no means confined to medicine only, who was rapidly
coming to the fore in his line and, if the report was verified, bade fair
to enjoy a flourishing practice in the not too distant future as a tony
medical practitioner drawing a handsome fee for his services in addition
to which professional status his rescue of that man from certain drowning
by artificial respiration and what they call first aid at Skerries, or
Malahide was it?, was, he was bound to admit, an exceedingly plucky deed
which he could not too highly praise, so that frankly he was utterly at a
loss to fathom what earthly reason could be at the back of it except he
put it down to sheer cussedness or jealousy, pure and simple.

--Except it simply amounts to one thing and he is what they call picking
your brains, he ventured to throw o.ut.

The guarded glance of half solicitude half curiosity augmented by
friendliness which he gave at Stephen's at present morose expression of
features did not throw a flood of light, none at all in fact on the
problem as to whether he had let himself be badly bamboozled to judge by
two or three lowspirited remarks he let drop or the other way about saw
through the affair and for some reason or other best known to himself
allowed matters to more or less. Grinding poverty did have that effect
and he more than conjectured that, high educational abilities though he
possessed, he experienced no little difficulty in making both ends meet.

Adjacent to the men's public urinal they perceived an icecream car round
which a group of presumably Italians in heated altercation were getting
rid of voluble expressions in their vivacious language in a particularly
animated way, there being some little differences between the parties.

--PUTTANA MADONNA, CHE CI DIA I QUATTRINI! HO RAGIONE? CULO ROTTO!

--INTENDIAMOCI. MEZZO SOVRANO PIU ...

--DICE LUI, PERO!

--MEZZO.

--FARABUTTO! MORTACCI SUI!

--MA ASCOLTA! CINQUE LA TESTA PIU ...
Prev Next All
Printer Friendly Version | Send this page to a friend | Discuss this Book
Your email address is safe with us. View our Privacy policy.

A Little Princess Frances Hodgson Burnett Category: Fiction Sections: 24 What's this? Table of Contents		Non Fiction Short Stories Poetry Plays Sci Fi Philosophy Religion Biography