The Annotated "Ulysses"/Page 078
to have hats modelled on our heads. They were about him here and there,
with heads still bowed in their crimson halters, waiting for it to melt in their
stomachs. Something like those mazzoth : it’s that sort of bread : unleavened
shewbread. Look at them. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Lollipop. It
does. Yes, bread of angels it’s called. There’s a big idea behind it, kind of
kingdom of God is within you feel. First communicants. Hokypoky penny a
lump. Then feel all like one family party, same in the theatre, all in the same
swim. They do. I’m sure of that. Not so lonely. In our confraternity. Then
come out a bit spreeish. Let off steam. Thing is if you really believe in it.
Lourdes cure, waters of oblivion, and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding.
Old fellow asleep near that confession box. Hence those snores. Blind faith.
Safe in the arms of kingdom come. Lulls all pain. Wake this time next year.
He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, well in, and kneel an
instant before it, showing a large grey bootsole from under the lace affair he
had on. Suppose he lost the pin of his. He wouldn’t know what to do to.
Bald spot behind. Letters on his back I. N. R. I.? No : I. H. S. Molly told me
one time I asked her. I have sinned : or no : I have suffered, it is. And the
other one? Iron nails ran in.
Meet one Sunday after the rosary. Do not deny my request. Turn up
with a veil and black bag. Dusk and the light behind her. She might be here
with a ribbon round her neck and do the other thing all the same on the sly.
Their character. That fellow that turned queen’s evidence on the invincibles
he used to receive the, Carey was his name, the communion every morning.
This very church. Peter Carey. No, Peter Claver I am thinking of. Denis Carey.
And just imagine that. Wife and six children at home. And plotting that
murder all the time. Those crawthumpers, now that’s a good name for them,
there’s always something shiftylooking about them. They’re not straight men
of business either. O no she’s not here : the flower : no, no. By the way did I
tear up that envelope? Yes : under the bridge.
The priest was rinsing out the chalice : then he tossed off the dregs
smartly. Wine. Makes it more aristocratic than for example if he drank what
they are used to Guinness’s porter or some temperance beverage Wheatley’s
Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochrane’s ginger ale (aromatic). Doesn’t
give them any of it : show wine : only the other. Cold comfort. Pious fraud
but quite right : otherwise they’d have one old booser worse than another
coming along, cadging for a drink. Queer the whole atmosphere of the.
Quite right. Perfectly right that is.